Dead to Rites
by Bess the Bard
Summary: Russell Edgington returns, aided by a new power, and determined to have vengeance on Sookie, Eric and others.  Mature sexual content, language and violence.  If you watch True Blood, you should be able to handle this.
1. Chapter 1

Dead to Rites

_It wasn't the undead monkey sex that was the problem._

Waitress Sookie Stackhouse mechanically went through her prep for the evening shift at Merlotte's Bar. A spot in her lower pelvis still thrummed with pleasure at the vivid memories from the night before. A bead of sweat snaked down the back of her neck from her smooth blond ponytail. Hadn't Sam paid his electric bill? Her snug Merlotte's T-shirt seemed to compress nipples that were suddenly too sensitive.

Her vampire lover Eric Northman, six-foot-four of Viking sex goodness, had paid a great deal of attention to those nipples last night. Sucking, nipping, and pulling. Her nipples had felt the center of all her sensation, pulsing and engorged; at least until Eric had moved…south of the border.

What that man could do with tongue and fang would make a whore blush, or scream with pleasure. As Sookie had, over and over, until she was pleading for relief-whether from the assault or for more she wasn't sure. Regardless, Eric had shown no mercy, probing and stroking, sucking, exploding her body into radiant splinters of orgasm.

Then Eric had plunged inside her slick vagina to take his own pleasure. He locked her hips to his, angling slightly upward with his cock so he pressed against her G-spot with each stroke, sending her shuddering to a second climax, and a third. Then he fell to the rhythm that signaled his own oncoming crisis, a primal slamming of his pelvis against hers, an urgent claiming that would accept no opposition, only ownership.

Eric triumphantly strained against her as he came, then flipped her over to her belly and slid in again, snugging her round bottom tightly to him. A new rhythm, a new crescendo in duet time…

"Sookie!" Sam called from behind the bar. "Help Arlene out with those frat boys from LSU, would ya?"

Sookie drew in a shaky breath, and waited a moment to be sure she would not fall over if she took a step. "Coming, Sam!"

_No, the undead monkey sex was not the problem._

The vampire that entered Merlotte's and paused at the door had a cool, clinical air about him. He surveyed the room as if he were an anthropologist observing a backward tribe in its native habitat, engaged in inscrutable primitive rituals.

Sookie eyed the usual suspects comprising a Bon Temps Friday night in the bar and couldn't blame him. Some frat rats from LSU were playing pool, feeling up the local girls and downing Dixie drafts like there was no tomorrow. Of course, when you're young, healthy and privileged, tomorrow can go screw itself. Jane Bodehouse, the bar's regular drunk, was rapidly nearing the point they would cut her off and call her son to pick her up. Jane tried to catch the eye of one of the frat boys coming back from the john and only managed to look like she had a facial twitch. The boy hurried back to the safety of Team Testosterone. The parish road crew, along with Sookie's brother Jason, a newly minted deputy sheriff, played darts in the back, roaring with beer-fueled laughter at a dirty joke that everyone had heard before. Maxine Fortinberry and her hen party cronies finished up their chicken fried steak, making note of any incriminating actions to share at the church potluck on Sunday.

Just another night at Merlotte's.

The vamp, slightly under 6 feet and with a handsome, sensitive face the pale caramel color of the undead who had been dark skinned in life, seemed to decide it was safe to chance the natives and sat down in a booth.

Sookie sighed. That was Arlene's section. But Arlene was already overrun with fraternal love and was never hot on vampires at the best of times. "I've got this one, Arlene," Sookie called. The red-haired waitress wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, spotted the pale visitor and nodded gratefully.

Merlotte's drink list was already on the table. Their selection of vampire beverage brands had grown in the last couple of years as vamp traffic increased. Everything from the really cheap synthetic stuff that one vamp told her was the undead version of C-rations to an imported brand mixed with real human donated blood and sold only by the glass.

"What can I get for you?" Sookie queried in her best waitress style. Even with the hard-learned caution that was now second nature when she dealt with supernaturals, sunny politeness was her default setting. "Or do you need a few more minutes?"

"True Blood, AB negative, please," the vampire said with the slight musicality that Sookie associated with people from the Caribbean. "Sure, coming right up," Sookie replied. Upper middle price range, with a rarified taste, she noted. They only had 3 bottles in stock.

She retrieved the bottle and a glass; put the bottle in the microwave at the appropriate setting. She arranged the items on the tray with a coaster and napkins and walked over to the booth.

"Here ya go, nice and warm." Sookie said, transferring bottle and glass from her tray. "Enjoy."

The vampire gazed at her steadily from a pair of abyssal black eyes. "Thank you, Miss-."

"Just Sookie is fine," she said. Most vampires were all fire and brash confidence, sucking up the available oxygen in the room. This one was reserved, almost restful. "Are you staying in the area?" Since her former lover Bill had become King of Louisiana, more and more vampires were passing through Bon Temps to do business or seek assistance. The Compton place was spacious but could not provide light-tight shelter for all the vampires who sought King Bill's presence. A new Stay Suites catering for vamps had opened up just off the Interstate.

"I will not be here long," said the vampire. "Though, I do have an errand to complete." Sookie assumed he meant that since he was passing through Bill's territory, vampire etiquette required any visitor to see the King and pay his respects.

The vampire took a neat drink from the glass. Some vamps didn't care if blood dripped (or splattered) while partaking of sustenance. Sookie always appreciated good manners. "You seem more comfortable with vampires than most humans I encounter, Miss Sookie," the vampire quirked an eyebrow inquiringly, then paused. "I'm afraid it is rude to invite further conversation without introducing myself. Forgive me."

"My name is Anton Sejour." Sejour nodded his head toward her with such grave formality that Sookie wondered if she should curtsey. The vamp's dark eyes appeared depthless in the low light of the bar. "In life I was from Santo Domingue, what you know now as Haiti." Like most people, all Sookie knew about the country was its poverty and suffering, especially since the recent earthquake. She wondered what it had been like when he lived there.

There was a loud whoop from the pool table as one of the LSU boys won a bet; she could sense his elation-_Take that Donnie! You can have Heather, I'll take your $300 bucks! _Sookie took one look at Arlene's red face-it almost matched her hair-and it didn't take her telepathy to know an explosion was imminent. "Well, it's been real nice talking to ya, Mr. Sejour" Sookie said. "But I gotta go help Arlene or there'll be blood spilt. No offense," she tossed over her shoulder.

"None taken," murmured Sejour, fangs slightly extended as his eyes followed the sweetly rounded bottom of the waitress. "None taken, Miss Stackhouse."

Sookie noticed Sejour lingered over his bottle of True Blood for quite awhile but she stayed so busy she didn't think about him again for most of the evening. Until she felt a strange mental…tickle, was all she could call it. She'd never felt anything like it but it made her stop and look around. She saw Sejour standing to leave. She gave a friendly smile, all the while wondering what-or who-had touched her mind. Had she imagined it? Sejour raised his hand in a type of acknowledgement and she nodded back.

If she didn't know better, she could have sworn it was the salute of one duelist to another.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for the encouraging comments and being named on so many alert lists! Made my day as you can imagine. Second, my first attempt at a summary probably needed to have more details. This story takes place after the events of season 4, episode 12. But, most of the story was outlined based on events in True Blood up through season 4, episode 10. I also borrow some elements from the books, which I have read. So there will be some artistic license taken.

Also, any mistakes with Haitian history or the minimal French vocabulary I used, are entirely my own. And, as always, these marvelous characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball. I just take them out on play dates and promise to return them (mostly) unharmed. No copyright infringement is intended. Read and enjoy, then review!_  
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_Santo Domingue, Island of Hispaniola 1792_

The slave Baptiste moved silently over the expanse of lawn that separated the house gardens from the sugar fields and slave shacks of the plantation _Montville_. He could smell the roses from France that the Mistress nursed with such care. More care, certainly, than she gave to any of her children. By handing them over to slave nursemaids, and then to tutors or governesses, she felt she had done all that was required of her. This limited attention was in turn more than the Master paid to his wife; he preferred to possess the slaves who could not refuse his will and the free mulatto women in town who could not refuse his money. But this was all as it should be among the _grand blanc_, the European-born white population in France's richest and most profitable Caribbean colony. Nobody thought for a moment that it should be any different.

Except for Baptiste and others like him in the burning hot summer of 1792.

Thousands of escaped slaves had lived on the fringes of the wilderness for years, raiding and stealing to survive. They were known as _maroons. _Those who were caught were subjected to horrific punishments: hanging, burning, castration, blinding and the rape of both sexes.

Now in the summer of rebellion, slaves on the plantations allied themselves with bands of heavily armed _maroons_, looting and burning plantation houses, and killing the white occupants-men, women and children. Revolution had come at last to _Montville_, and Baptiste's torch of freedom flickered as he peered into the window of his Master's house.

The house of the Master was also the house of his father. Baptiste growled silently as he wrapped the tail of his loose shirt around his hand and broke a pane of glass in the double doors leading from the garden terrace to the drawing room. He paused as the glass fell mostly on the deep carpet within but he heard no sounds of alarm so he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He checked the large rooms on the main floor, including his father's study, but found them empty. Baptiste retrieved what he was looking for and sped toward the back of the house.

Father. What an odd word. To Baptiste it meant a tall menacing figure as far above him as _Le Bon Dieu_ in Heaven with a much more immediate way of visiting his wrath. That figure had visited his mother weekly all through his childhood, violating her in the small rope bed that at other times she shared with her son. While he curled up in the corner with a scrap of blanket, hearing everything. Sometimes, Master arrived stinking of drink and his mother sent Baptiste outside to sleep. Baptiste didn't go far, however, and her screams on those nights never left his dreams.

His mother, a _Vodoun _priestess of the Yoruba people, was African-born. Tall and beautiful, she caught the Master's eye on the auction block. She practiced her religion in secret, but the slaves knew who to go to for healing, for comfort, for telling what the future held. She knew the sacrifices required to invoke the _Loa, _spirits that occupied the world all around them, and beyond. Although she possessed the herbs that would have washed the Master's seed from her body, she chose to keep the baby because she believed he would have a great destiny. She bore the Master's child and taught her son all she knew. Over time, Baptiste became a skilled and powerful _houngan _or priest.

On bare feet Baptiste padded silently up the servant staircase from the kitchen. Uncounted times he had run up and down these steep, narrow stairs carrying meals, hauling hot water and firewood; fetching and carrying for the family and their guests. Sometimes he was called upon to service guests in certain other ways, as well. There had been one a few nights ago, whose cool hands and smooth polite voice had commanded the most perverse pleasures, and the marks that were left on his body…Baptiste pushed the thoughts away. The night would be long.

He heard distant cries, and knew the burning sugar mill and outbuildings had been noticed. Some slaves, out of loyalty or fear, rushed to save their Master's property. Baptiste spared a moment of pity for them-but the message of the _loa _in the sacrifices had been clear, all opposition must be silenced for them to succeed tonight. He continued his dark climb; torch in one hand, stained machete in the other.

He reached the floor with the family sleeping quarters. The nursery door was open and he looked inside. It appeared to be empty. Had the twin girls and the nursemaid sought refuge with their mother? He stepped back into the hall and moved down the silent passageway until reaching the apartments of his Mistress. He passed through her empty sitting room with the damask-covered chairs, the embroidery frame and deep blue carpet. He slowed as he came to the carved double doors leading to the sleeping chamber. He could hear faint whimpering as he leaned closer. The cries grew louder as he slowly opened the doors.

The six-year-old twins, whom Baptiste regarded only as exquisitely dressed but useless dolls, lay motionless on the huge bed. Their nursemaid, named Delphie, was rocking one lifeless girl, tears streaming down her brown face. "She made me poison them; she made me kill my babies!" Delphie wailed. "Why she make me do that, Baptiste? I didn't want to, but she made me! What mama gonna kill her babies?"

"Where is she, Delphie?" Baptiste demanded. "Where's that bitch? Our beloved Mistress!" He crossed the distance to the bed and shook Delphie's arm. "Tell me!"

Delphie's raised wild tear-filled eyes to him. "I dunno! She left once the babies stopped breathing!" Baptiste raised his machete to the maid's throat. "I swear, I don't know where she went!" Baptiste was almost persuaded until he saw Delphie's eyes widen slightly at something behind him. He whirled to find his Mistress swinging a heavy iron poker right at his head. He dodged and slashed with his machete. Red blossomed across the Mistress' pristine white embroidered robe as she fell to her knees.

Baptist stepped over to her and looked into china-blue eyes set in the fair skin that was never allowed the kiss of the sun. He remembered the slaps and pinches when he was a child, and when she had his mother whipped out of jealousy for the attention her husband paid to one who could not refuse him. "Better to die quickly than be touched by your unholy black hands, _bastard_!" the Mistress breathed heavily.

"As always," Baptiste grabbed her golden hair and pulled her head far back. "Your wish is my command." He slid the machete across her throat and gloried in the spray of her blood across his face. He licked his lips and whispered, "Tastes like freedom."

Baptiste turned to Delphie, still whimpering on the bed beside her former charges. "Get out, girl!" He snarled. "Or end up like your devil Mistress." He raised his machete threateningly.

"I won't never leave my girls," Delphie wept. "Never!"

"She made you nurse them and your own baby died when you had no milk left for him!" Baptist raged. "How can they mean anything to you?"

Her loyalty to their oppressors infuriated him. She dishonored the power the _loa_ had lent him tonight to seize the freedom of their people. The black and red ribbons of energy roiled in his belly where he'd ingested the blood of the sacrifice. He put his hands to his stomach and felt the power flow out into his fingers. He didn't know if anyone else saw the strings of energy clinging to him like black molasses. His hands grew hot, and he slowly twisted them together, picturing the maid's throat between them. Delphie began to choke and gasp. He tightened his grip. He heard a sudden crack and Delphie's head hung at an unnatural angle. Still wet with tears, her wide eyes stared back at him, tongue protruding from her lips. He had never touched her.

Baptiste shook his head as if to clear his thoughts of cobwebs. He ran out of the bedroom. He still had work to do.

He slowed his pace so that he could move as quietly as possible. He was approaching his most dangerous prey now. He opened the door to his father's rooms cautiously. The room was dim and he had left his torch behind in the Mistress' apartments. He gripped his machete tightly. There was a single candle burning on a small table next to the lounging couch where his younger half brother lay, apparently sleeping. Baptiste stepped into the room, about to call his brother's name, when the point of a sword dug deeply into the side of his throat.

"Stop right there, _mon fils_!" whispered his father. "I knew you would be the one to come." The weapon held by his father was the dress sword presented to him as an officer in the French army, by the old King Louis. The only time Baptiste saw his father weep was last year when news came that the French Royal family had been imprisoned in the Tuileries Palace during the Revolution.

"Drop the machete, boy." The sword drew blood from Baptiste's throat. "You know I won't hesitate to save the hangman the trouble of ending your existence," said his Master. "Where are Helene and the girls?"

Baptiste dropped his weapon and sneered at his father. "Your darling Helene poisoned her daughters rather than let them live to see black slaves overrunning her house." He heard his father draw a sharp breath. "And while your dear wife will not be joining us this evening, I can tell you _she_ _was a sweet-tasting cunt_!"

Expecting the enraged slash of his father's sword, Baptiste twisted toward him, blocking the down stroke with his left arm and sweeping his father's booted feet out from under him. His opponent went down on one knee but the slash of the sword cut Baptiste's arm nearly to the bone and Baptiste swayed as waves of pain crashed against him.

Baptiste stumbled back and with his good hand pulled out of his belt the item he'd retrieved from his father's study earlier, a dueling pistol. He pointed it at his father's chest. "This is fitting, don't you think, _mon pere_? Your pistol, your house, your son!" Baptiste pulled the trigger and several things seemed to happen at once. His brother who'd been watching them silently, cried out, "Papa, no!" His father tried to dodge to one side but the pistol ball caught him in the shoulder, spinning him and sending him crashing into a delicately carved chair.

Baptiste was not skilled at reloading. He dropped the pistol and grabbed his machete. His younger brother was weeping loudly. "Silence, Anton!" Baptiste cried. "You know he deserves it!"

Baptiste's father clung to Anton's couch and pulled himself upright. One hand clutched his shoulder to try to stop the bleeding. In the other, he held a rough sack, spotted with dark liquid stains. He awkwardly upended the sack and out rolled the severed head of Baptiste's mother. Baptiste recognized her intricately braided hair fastened with the tortoiseshell comb he had carved for her. His world seemed to go black and he forgot how to breathe.

The Master laughed. "That bitch! I knew Therese was part of this uprising." He kicked at the head but missed. "She didn't try to deny it. She even admitted she was the reason Anton has been sickly since he was a little boy! Feeding him devilish potions and such so you could stay close and care for him rather than be sent to the fields where you belonged."

He coughed deeply then continued while Baptiste felt the loa fight within him like caged rats, snarling for release. Their priestess must be avenged. He struggled to contain and channel the power while his father kept talking. "She said you should have been my heir. As if I would let some mixed blood savage carry my name and inherit all I've worked for!"

Baptiste noticed a fine crystal goblet on the mantle next to him. He picked it up and inspected it. His father grabbed his sword. "Are you addled, boy? I'll end you, just like I ended your devil bitch mother. I can do that because I own you, body and soul!"

With great concentration, Baptiste squeezed the delicate crystal in his hand, crushing it. Shards of glass dug into his palm and fingers; blood dripped out of his clenched fist. Black strings of energy spiraled out from his chest and spread down his arm to his bloody hand. A dark light glowed in his palm as he continued to grip the splintered glass. The same dark light began to pulse around his father's torso.

Suddenly the Master screamed in agony. He bent over clutching his belly. Blood began to pour from his mouth. He made choked gargling sounds and dropped his sword, clawing at his throat until something hard and sharp fell from his lips, along with more blood. It glinted slightly in the candlelight. A piece of glass landed on the carpet. Another piece and then another followed, accompanied by more screams and wordless pleading moans as the man fell to his knees. Shards of glass began to work themselves out through the skin on the Master's neck, face, arms and belly, leaving copiously bleeding slashes; his tongue cut to bloody ribbons.

Baptiste watched his father roll on the floor begging unintelligibly for mercy, though the sounds gradually grew less and less. He glanced at his brother. Anton's eyes were so wide only the whites appeared to be showing. The dark pulsing light faded from their father's still body, while blood continued to pour from innumerable wounds, staining the green woven rug. Count Henri Sejour, Master of _Montville_, was dead.

Baptiste let the glass shards fall from his hand. His own cuts would heal.

He knelt down beside his brother, younger by three years. Baptiste had been his brother's body slave since the boy was two years old. He had carried him, bathed him, dressed him; had sat through lessons with tutors with him. He knew his mother had somehow been responsible for the boy's weakness and recurrent fevers but had not questioned her. Despite everything, the brothers had grown fond of each other. Anton loved the strong, active Baptiste who was his constant companion.

Baptiste gently stroked Anton's hair back from his forehead, as he had through many feverish nights. Anton's green eyes fixed on his brother's black ones, their faces otherwise very similar. "Have you come for me as well, Baptiste?" Anton asked in a soft, shaken voice. "Will it hurt?"

"There will be no pain, I promise, _ma petite_." Baptiste said. "It will be like falling asleep. You will wake in Heaven with all the other angels."

Anton sighed and a tear slipped down his cheek. "I will see Suzette and Eugenie there, yes? I know you did not like our sisters but they always made me laugh."

"Then they will be there, too. Because you wish it. _Le Bon Dieu_ would refuse you nothing." He kissed Anton on the lips. "Shhh, it is time to rest now. Close your eyes and breathe deeply." Nestling his brother's fair head on his shoulder, Baptiste cupped Anton's chin in his hand, humming softly for several minutes until he felt Anton's breathing become deep and even. Then he gently pinched the boy's nostrils shut and gripped his mouth closed tightly. Anton jerked violently once, twice; then he was still.

Baptiste continued to stroke his brother's face until all the warmth had left it. He gently arranged Anton on the couch, and covered him as if he were only sleeping. He gathered up his mother's head, caressing her smooth face for a moment before wrapping it in a fine shawl once belonging to his Mistress. He would bury his mother come the dawn with the rituals befitting a _Vodoun_ priestess.

He never looked at his father's body again as he left the room.

Baptiste walked slowly down the main stairs gazing at the large rooms filled with beautiful furnishings and art brought at great expense from Paris. Paid for with the blood and torment of hundreds of slaves, it would all burn tonight.

There was a blur of motion and suddenly Baptiste was pinned against the wall by a white hand at his throat. Baptiste's eyes widened and he felt true fear for the first time since he entered the house. He gazed into the pale face of the guest who had commanded his body a few nights before. The man was a little shorter than Baptiste but radiated such a dominating presence of evil, Baptiste quailed before him. The _loa_ in his gut squirmed violently and then stilled, as if even they feared being noticed.

"Well, look who's been a busy boy tonight," drawled the guest. "I knew you had passion and a thirst for taking what is rightfully yours, but you look as though you waded through rivers of blood to do it." He laughed at Baptiste's choked gasp. "That's a rare quality. Well done, Baptiste, well done indeed."

"I like you, dear boy. I really do." The man's breathe smelled sweet, as if he chewed cinnamon cloves. Baptiste struggled but the man held him pinned to the wall like a helpless insect, and with as little effort. "Now don't be rude, Baptiste. I'm trying to proposition you. I think you will enjoy coming home with me and meeting my companion."

Baptiste screamed as he saw fangs appear in the man's mouth. What demon was this? The fangs locked on Baptiste's throat and tore into his jugular vein. For a moment, the man stopped, Baptiste's blood dripping from his mouth. "I suppose I ought to introduce myself because we will get to know each other very, very well," he purred. "My name is Russell Edgington."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Lots of lemony goodness in this chapter. One note—Spoilers for season 4. As always, I don't own these characters, I just love to love them._

Sookie helped Sam Merlotte close up the bar that night. Arlene had to go home a little early because her daughter Lisa had a temperature. It had been a busy night and the cash take was heavy. So was the cleanup after the LSU crowd had some buddies show up just 30 minutes before closing and order more rounds of everything. Lafayette Reynolds, the short order cook, had grumbled but flounced back into the kitchen in his inimitable way to take care of the orders. After setting them up in record time, however, Lafayette had cleaned his kitchen and headed out the back door without a backward glance. Cleaning the bar and dining room was not in his job description.

Thus it was nearly three in the morning by the time Sookie was able to close her own door on the night. Her head hurt from the heavy shielding she'd maintained after that strange mental touch earlier in the evening. The boisterous crowd hadn't helped either. Lord, the minds of college boys were nasty. Did their parents know that most of their tuition money went towards internet porn?

A long warm shower helped soothe the aches and pains away but she was still strangely restless as she sat on her bed combing out her long blond hair. She had to get it dry before she went to sleep or it would be impossible in the morning. It was only a few hours until dawn so it was highly unlikely Eric would come by before going to ground for the day. Friday nights were usually just as busy at Fangtasia as at Merlotte's, maybe more so. But her mind would not shut off despite the hour and her body pulsed with a restless energy.

The Witch War, as many were calling it, had been over for several weeks now. Marnie and her possessive spirit Antonia were dead and gone, respectively. The brutal part that both of the vampires in her life had played in that ending still haunted Sookie but she resolutely pushed it out of her mind tonight. Tara had started out allied with the witches against the vampires and, although she ultimately joined the "right" side, Sookie's close relationship with her childhood friend had never been so strained. The year that had passed while Sookie was in the realm of the fae had wrought changes in her life she was still trying to cope with. She had seen Bill evolve from her secretive, tormented lover into a powerful and somewhat ruthless King with immense authority over the vampire world in which she was struggling to find her new place with Eric.

Eric's memories had been restored when Antonia's spell had been broken. The sweet, gentle, rather lost Eric that Sookie fell in love with had disappeared but she wasn't quite sure yet what had replaced him. On the surface, the proud, confident vampire with the sly, mocking manner seemed to snap back into place. Pam, Eric's progeny, had been ecstatically happy about that, along with the fact that her rotting spell had also been reversed. Though neither had shared details with her, however, Sookie knew that not even Pam and Eric's relationship had escaped the Witch War unscathed.

Sookie also sensed, in the blood bond she shared with Eric, that he remained troubled and had yet to reconcile the deep feelings he confessed during their spellbound idyll with the thousand years of blood-soaked memories that poured back into his head after the curse ended. She didn't know if vampires had therapists (Lord knows they could use them!) but she'd bet one would diagnose Eric with being in denial about what happened between them and what it might mean for his future-their future. Of course, Sookie Stackhouse could paddle that river in Egypt with the best of them, she admitted to herself. She had not pushed for the Big Talk, as she'd come to label it, afraid of having to examine her own feelings and of hearing what Eric wanted, as well. Having to share blood again with Bill after being shot in a battle with the witches had only complicated an already messy emotional situation. But for now it seemed like Eric was the future and she was trying hard to honor that.

So they had drifted along in the past weeks, continuing to see each other when Eric could get away from catching up on all the obligations that accumulated during his "disability", as Pam called it. They seldom talked of anything of import, just glossing the surface of events before engaging, sometimes desperately, in mind-blowing sex to keep the demons at bay.

At the thought of those sweaty, surging nights, many of them in this very bed, Sookie realized where the strange restlessness was coming from. "Damn you, Eric!" she muttered. She sent a burst of irritation down the bond and felt a wave of amusement float back from her vampire lover, along with an acute awareness of her own body's growing desire for release. At that moment, her cell phone rang.

Of course.

"I need to get to sleep, not get all hot and bothered over a dumb blond Viking," Sookie grumbled into the phone. "You've been doing this all night, haven't you? Judas Priest, I almost came, right in the middle of Merlotte's..." she trailed off. Definitely giving him way too much ammunition. She rolled her eyes as she heard his delighted laugh.

"Did you indeed, my lover?" Eric purred. "I wish I had been there but I was on "throne duty" tonight. It was the first time I've had a chance to put in such an appearance since I took up the reins as Sheriff again. The reception was...gratifying." She heard his satisfaction. One part of her brain insisted it was probably the money take he was happy with, but a more immature part supplied visions of the groveling fang-bangers of both sexes that lined up for just a glimpse of his deadly smile.

"So who, or what, did you "gratify" tonight?" Sookie snapped. She didn't want to be the jealous shrew but she was tired after a long night, irritated at his ability to manipulate her emotions, and aroused in the bargain. It wasn't fair, damn it!

Eric pushed a sense of soothing calm along the bond, which only infuriated her more. Perhaps he realized it because he backed off a bit. In an even tone he said, "I find being on display for the pathetic and the curious boring at best, and in my worst moments, humiliating. I do it because it is highly profitable, and provides a level of access for humans to vampires that is needed more than ever in the post-Russell Edgington world." A trace of amusement returned to his voice. "I got through it tonight mostly by crossing my legs and thinking of you."

That made her smile a little but she wasn't ready to give up her mad just yet. "Oh, and I'm sure you never helped yourself to what was offered at the foot of your almighty throne!" she challenged him, then could have kicked herself. She knew the answer to this one didn't she?

"You know in the past I sometimes chose a companion from among those who came before me." She could hear a slight edge to his voice. Well fine, that made two of them. "I am selective, however," he continued and his voice dropped to a seductive tone that resonated in her lower belly. "I have certain demands that must be met."

Eric paused for a moment but Sookie remained silent. She was curious, despite herself, but would have rather faced a V-addict than admit it. Eric went on and she figured he wasn't fooled. "If you had appeared at Fangtasia that first night, without the erstwhile Bill Compton, you still would have caught my attention. You were dressed in virginal white, bright as sunshine in a dark hole. I heard your gasp when our eyes met, and I counted your every heartbeat. I felt the way your pulse quickened when you stared at me so directly with fear and desire shining in your eyes." Sookie's pulse was tripping along pretty fast now. She gripped her cell phone tightly.

"I wanted you for my own from the first, but I require more than yielding to the inevitable." Eric said silkily. "You must participate in your own corruption. Perhaps I would have told you come to me when Fangtasia was closed and we could be alone. You would submit to me from dark to dawn, with the promise only that come the day, you would still be...human."

Sookie knew she couldn't be glamoured by a vampire in person, much less over the phone, but she felt herself falling under her lover's dark enchantment. "Wh...what then?" she stammered.

"You come wearing only that which I ordered-one of the pretty sundresses that remind me of spring, but I do not allow you panties or a bra. Nothing to protect you from what the night will bring." Eric didn't have to be dramatic in his narrative, the erotic vision he wove seemed to pierce straight to her inner core. She could feel the moisture between her legs and she reached down to touch herself there.

"Your eyes are wide and frightened but you come stand before me on the dancer platform as I command. Music begins and I tell you to dance. You are confused, and move awkwardly at first, with no true awareness of what your body can do. I stop the music and reprimand you sharply. If you are to fulfill your desires tonight, you must please me. The music begins again. It is the music of an ancient people, the Roma, who knew no borders and no laws but their own. The sound is wild, tragic, gloriously passionate. It stirs your soul and your blood. You begin to move in rhythm with the music; your arms reach above your head, swaying with abandon and your breasts are thrust proudly forward. Your hips and belly ripple in time to the drums, which beat faster and faster while Gypsy violins and tambours spur you to whirl madly, hair whipping your face. Faster and faster you spin, as if a wicked spell had cursed you to dance to death. At last you collapse before me, breath coming in violent gasps; you are wet and shaking from the exertion. The music stops."

_Sookie imagined the scene. She could see herself whirl before him, feel the beat of the drums, hear the sweet song of the violins. She saw herself dancing in the dark, the caress of his gaze on her overheated skin. Her breathing quickened as she pictured Eric watching her as she danced in abandon for him, only for him__**.**_

"When you come to yourself, you see me standing over you..." Eric paused, maybe to let her think about it. To imagine herself looking up at the tall, dangerous Viking.

_Hesitantly Sookie said, "I can see your desire for me, in your eyes and in your powerful body. It frightens me. But, I want to know more." She heard a small huff of surprise that she would join him in this game, and a flood of lust surged through their bond. She could tell her participation pleased and excited him._

Erik picked up his narration, his voice low and growling. **"**Your heart is still beating hard from the dance. I can smell the blood rushing through your body and have to restrain myself from sinking my fangs instantly into your neck. I take a deep breath I do not need and tell you to get up. You slowly rise to your feet and look at me uncertainly. I tell you to disrobe."

_Sookie knew how this part of the scene went. "My hands are trembling as I untie the strings holding the dress. It slips to the floor."_

"I pick it up and inhale the scent of your desire," Eric responded. "You stand before me displayed in all your beauty. I will know every inch of you intimately, nothing will be hidden from me. I tell you to turn around and place your hands behind your neck. You must keep them there until I give you permission to move. I caress your shoulders, trace your spine and your ribs. You shiver deliciously."

_Sookie did shiver as she ran her hands over her body, imagining they were the hands of her lover. _

"I run my hands down to your buttocks and with a gentle squeeze pull them slightly apart. I kneel and kiss your bottom, running my fangs lightly across the skin. I run one finger down the crease and then into the slit between your legs. You are dripping with desire. I turn you around to face me and you watch as I slowly lick your wetness from my finger. So sweet; I can barely wait to plunge my cock inside you and feel you come around me."

_Sookie moaned. She wanted that so much herself, to feel him inside her, filling her. She pinched her nipples, feeling his rough fingers there before she ran her hand over her mound, teasing herself, softly calling his name._

Erik practically growled into the phone as he felt the rush of Sookie's growing desire through their bond. "I rain kisses from your flat belly to your breasts and flick your nipples with my tongue. Your breasts fill my hands perfectly, your skin is smooth and soft. I twist the nipples slightly, then suck them while kneading them with my hands. You arch your back to offer your breasts for my attention.

_Sookie's skin felt like it was alive. She wanted him, she wanted Erik to be there with her, to feel his hands on her body. She arched her back, offering herself to him. If only he were here and not just a delicious voice on the phone. _

"You begin to take your hands from behind your neck but I land a sharp slap on one perfect buttock," Eric warned in a dangerous tone. "You are more startled than hurt. I tell you that I must be obeyed or you will be punished. Excitement flares in your eyes for an instant and then defiance."

_Sookie gasped with delicious fear at his hint of dominance in their game. She loved the erotic edge promised in Eric's words._

"You are irresistible," Eric's silken voice caressed her. "I cover your sensual lips with mine, plundering your mouth with my tongue until I remember you need to breathe. I nip your bottom lip with my fangs and suck the ruby beads bubbling to the surface. You moan and murmur soft pleas for mercy. But I have none for my sweet lover."

"I have you fold your arms behind you, with one hand gripping each elbow. This forces your chest out proudly and leaves you even more vulnerable to my attentions. I point out that if you remove your hands from behind you again, next time I will tie them there. You can tell I mean what I say."

_Sookie let herself get lost in the words, seeing herself naked and exposed before him, quivering with desires only he could satisfy_.

"I stand up in front of you and with pressure on your shoulders, push you to your knees. I can smell your arousal and I know my restraint will not last much longer. As you kneel, I put my foot between your legs and push them widely apart. You try to adjust your stance but I nudge your thighs apart even further and gently press the toe of my black boot to your wetness. You moan and thrust your hips forward to maintain the pressure but I keep the contact brief. I tell you to lick the boot clean."

Eric heard a quick intake of breath from Sookie. He was leading her deeper than ever before and he wasn't sure she was ready to follow.

_After a long pause, he heard her whisper breathlessly, "I hesitate. You are powerful, a creature far beyond my understanding. How far will you take me?" _

Her response propelled his lust to new heights and he let her feel how much she pleased him. But he continued in his role of the dominant lover. "I return a stern look and stroke my cock through my pants. Doing as I say is the only path to your release, which you yearn for more than pride, more than sense. It is difficult without the use of your arms for balance but you lean forward and delicately as a kitten, lick your essence from the soft leather. Your pink tongue on the leather of my black boot is one of the most erotic things I have seen in a thousand years. I am on the ragged edge of seizing you and ravishing you into unconsciousness. But I want to stoke your own passion as hot and searing as mine before I finally claim you."

_Sookie moaned as she ardently wished he was here to claim her this very moment._

"Your journey has just begun, my lover," Eric whispered, determined to send her over the edge. "I step off the dance platform so that now we are roughly at the same eye level. I remove my shirt."

_Ah, this part Sookie could play very well. She knew every curve and contour of that magnificent body. She imagined the exquisite frustration of having him before her but not being permitted to touch. "My eyes caress your shoulders and chest, and track hungrily down your belly to the snap of your black jeans. I want to see more of you."_

Eric smiled to himself. What man could resist such a plea? "I unfasten my jeans to release my cock. It stands tall and eager to seek your very core. I can tell you are a little frightened by my size but I know you will take all of me and enjoy it. I remove my pants and boots to stand before you completely nude. I can almost taste the hunger in your blood to feel me inside you and I grow even larger in response. I reach down and with long fingers stroke the wet folds of your labia. You weren't expecting it and try to close your legs. I slap the sensitive skin inside your thighs to force them wide again. You are mine, and no part of you can be withheld from me."

_Again, Sookie felt the stab of desire at his possessive words. Her fingers rubbed her clitoris, teasing the nub and imagining his large, clever hands there instead. _

"I put a finger far up inside you and begin an insistent rhythm, in and out. Two and then three fingers fill your vagina; you gasp and your hips push back seeking even greater invasion."

_Sookie's own fingers followed his actions, her breath quickened as her pleasure built._

Eric felt her growing need. "My thumb lightly flicks your clitoris and when it swells with desire, I pinch it and rub harder. You explode with sensation and I can feel your fluids drench my hand."

_Sookie felt herself come and closed her eyes in bliss. Yet she craved to be filled by her lover in truth._

"You beg to touch me and have me inside you. I will grant you mercy...in time." Eric wasn't done with her yet. "I grasp your slender waist and easily lift and turn you so that you are facing away from me. Such an obedient kitten, you arms remain in the position I required of you. I lean over your shoulder and kiss you in appreciation, long and druggingly. I sink my face into your beautiful hair, with shades from wheat to gold to honey. I almost weep, for it smells like summer in the high meadows of my northern home. Gods, what you do to me, my lover."

Eric's voice was ragged and he stopped for a long moment before he continued.

_Sookie's breath came in sharp little gasps as she fingered her sensitive mound, starting her journey again, lost in his words._

"I rub myself against your bottom and you can feel how much I want you. I lift you and set you down upon my cock, just barely inside your entrance. Your labia slip around the head in delicious torment and we moan at almost the same time with pleasure. But I am in charge still, controlling the pace. I draw back, leaving you empty for several moments, then plunge inside fully. You cry out and come simply from the pleasure of being filled at last. I thrust slowly in and out for a long time, keeping you on the edge of another release. I pinch and twist your nipples, they are engorged with pleasure. Then I explore between your legs, rubbing your clit, sliding my fingers along your labial lips, pulling them widely apart at the same time as I pull you back toward me forcing you to arch far upward like a bow. You are stretched taut as if on a medieval rack and I plunge deeply, to the tip of your womb, again and again."

_Arching her back on the bed as envisioned by her lover, Sookie cried aloud as her release poured out over her fingers. _

"At last I sink my fangs into your neck, drinking voraciously of your living sweetness. The rush is so powerful that I pump harder and harder, coming deep within you."

_Still breathing hard from her own climax, Sookie pictured Eric taking his own pleasure as he spoke._

There was a long pause while both of them recovered. Eric spoke first, "You slump against me in exhaustion. I kiss you tenderly; lips, cheeks, eyelids, neck. You are so sweet and responsive. You have so much passion to give, and I will make sure you give only to me. I murmur loving appreciation and help you to turn around to face me. I whisper that you have pleased me greatly. Gently, I bring your arms from behind your back, rubbing the feeling back into them. I worship your hands and fingers with caresses, kissing each one. My ardor begins to stir again."

Eric sent a wave of invitation to Sookie. _Play with me a little longer?_ Sookie smiled to herself and returned a swell of assent. _Let's see what happens._

"I sense you are deeply relaxed but can be coaxed to passion once more." Eric's tone suggested a slower approach this time. "I invite you to explore my body at your leisure."

_Her participation was clearly requested. "I sit facing you cross-legged like a kid," she teased. " I rub my hands over your chest and stomach, circling ever closer to your cock which waits impatiently for my touch." _

_"I trace a fingernail down your penis which jerks in anticipation of more." She could feel his silken hardness in her hand. "I see a drop of fluid at the head and bend over to lick it with my tongue." She heard Eric groan and grinned. "You tangle your hand in my hair, urging me to take you in my mouth. But I'm not done with you just yet." _

"Sookie, for God's sake!" Eric gasped.

_Sookie thought she could learn to like this game. A lot. "I curl around you and start kissing your cock, little butterfly flicks to drive you mad with anticipation. Slowly, I lick up and down, swirling my tongue around the top and the slit of your penis, my hands gently cupping and squeezing your balls."_

With a low growl, Eric took up the tale again, and she let him, satisfied with her results. "I press urgently against your lips and slowly enter the delicious warmth of your mouth," he said. "I push in with shallow thrusts and your eyes look up at me with tenderness and longing. I cannot resist any longer. I pull out of your mouth and draw you to your feet."

"I grip your hips, lifting you. Your smooth tanned legs wrap eagerly around my waist. I carry you to my throne, and as we sit, I slip inside."

_Sookie began to feel her own excitement build again, her fingers teasing and stroking her mound, as Eric continued._

"You moan and clasp me in velvet, drawing me in deeper and deeper. You are a full participant now and meet me thrust for thrust. I grasp your bottom and lock your hips to mine, increasing my speed, ramming home. I wonder briefly if I am too rough, but I know I must possess you utterly and your passion keeps pace with mine."

_Sookie's fingers worked faster and faster as she imagined Eric's penis deep within her._

"I fasten my mouth on first one nipple and then the other, sucking hard and piercing them with my fangs. You groan deeply but press my head closer to your breast. Like a child, I draw life-giving fluid from your body, a hot and heady brew that you will share only with me. With blood on my lips I meet you for a soul-deep kiss. Your tongue seeks the salty savor of your own blood in my mouth. The union thus made propels us both to crisis. I seal your scream of release with my lips as you come drenchingly around my cock. I pump madly into your depths, again and again, lost at last in your sweetness."

Eric's deep magnetic voice whispered the last words and then there was silence.

Sookie emerged shakily from the fog of fantasy spun by her demon lover. She had climaxed once more as Eric's words consumed her.

"That was...I mean I've never..." Sookie couldn't piece together a coherent thought. She stopped before she started babbling.

"Well, I suppose you are relaxed enough to go to sleep now, my lover?" She could hear the smugness in Eric's voice but decided she was too sated to care "Rest well, for I will come to you soon and show you how little the fantasy compares to the reality." He gave a chuckle full of dark promise. "Sweet dreams, Sookie."

Sookie was fast sliding into a post-coital slumber and murmured "G'night, Eric." Just as she dropped into sleep's abyss she remembered she hadn't mentioned the vampire Anton Sejour. Oh, well. There was always tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you, thank you for all of you who have read and reviewed! I appreciate it so much. I also appreciate any constructive comments about writing, character, details, etc. It's important to me to always improve! There are two chapters today that help move the plot along. Read, review, have fun! As always, nothing is mine._

_Friday night_

Bill Compton, King of Louisiana, felt the pull of his daytime sleep. Dawn was very close but he had a just a bit more work to do. No matter what he achieved by becoming King, he had certainly underestimated the amount of paperwork involved. He clicked on an e-mail from the shifter Sam Merlotte. Sam didn't think of himself as a spy for Compton but had agreed to keep the King informed of any activity he observed involving the vampire community that might be of interest. Sam viewed this mostly as insurance. Compton didn't care as long as the information was accurate and relevant.

The e-mail mentioned that an unfamiliar vampire stopped by the bar and had some conversation with Sookie Stackhouse. From what Sam gathered, the vamp's name was Anton Sejour. A brief physical description was included. There had been no incident but Sam wanted to know if Bill knew this vampire and if he should expect any trouble.

Bill felt a pang in the region of his static heart, as he did whenever he heard Sookie's name. Regret, guilt, frustration and, most of all, love still comprised the chaotic swirl of emotions that were his feelings about his blond neighbor. With great difficulty, he'd accepted that she had chosen Eric Northman to replace him after what she saw as his betrayal over trying to obtain her for the former Queen. But he remained alert to whether Eric treated Sookie with the devotion she deserved, as well as protecting her from all danger. If the time came when he thought Eric failed to do so, Compton vowed the Viking would pay the ultimate price.

Bill glanced up at his new human admin, Connie Mitchell. A rather round African-American woman who kept her hair cut close to her head and always dressed impeccably in colorful business suits, Connie was the most aggressively efficient person Bill had ever met, of any species. He had poached her from a vampire law firm in New Orleans, ruthlessly outbidding and outranking the senior partner who, Bill thought, would gladly have staked him for it. She ran his office and schedule with such military precision, even his sheriffs tread warily around her. Eric Northman, of course, expected her to succumb to his charm. It hadn't worked and Bill had been so delighted he raised her already generous salary.

"Do we know of Anton Sejour?" Bill asked Connie. "Has he checked in here or with any of the Sheriffs? I don't recognize the name."

Connie had already reviewed and compiled the latest reports from all the Sheriffs for the night. "Nobody mentioned him and he isn't in our database. Someone new?" she asked as she made a note on her Ipad.

"Perhaps," Bill replied considering. "Give Mr. Sejour until nightfall to show up here or otherwise surface. If he doesn't, tell Sheriff Northman I want him found and brought to me personally. Under silver if necessary." Bill powered down his computer for the day. "There's no excuse for bad manners."

_Shreveport, Louisiana _

Alcide Herveaux sank his large frame into the oversize leather office chair that was his only indulgence in the otherwise Spartan office of his new Shreveport location. He inhaled his second cup of coffee and decided he was almost on speaking terms with the day. Last night was the third night of the full moon and he had been out late running with the pack. Unfortunately, being a Were didn't preclude 8am conference calls on a Saturday morning. He glanced at his watch. He still had about 20 minutes before the meeting on the junior high school project he was bidding on. His cell phone rang and he sighed as he spotted the caller ID. His father; not necessarily how he wanted to start the morning. But Alcide's voice was warm when he pressed the button and said "Hi Dad, you're up early. How are you doing?"

"Doing fine, son. Just fine." Jackson Herveaux sounded chipper and a little...excited, Alcide thought. "How's it going in Shreveport? Did you get the school project?"

"I should know that in about 15 or 20 minutes. So we need to make it short, but I'll call you right after the meeting," Alcide tried to appeal to his father's desire to put business first. "Was that it?"

"Well now, I know it's not nice for your old man to say 'I told you so', but I don't get that many chances." Jackson laughed. Alcide rolled his eyes.

"What are you talking about Dad?" Alcide struggled to keep his voice even.

"You remember that little office park project you poured the foundations on last year? You didn't want me to sell it even though we had offers." Jackson was enjoying drawing out the suspense on his little revelation, whatever it was.

Alcide began to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew exactly which location his father was talking about, and exactly what-or who-was buried in that concrete foundation. Two medical office buildings had been built on top of the slabs although they hadn't leased quickly with the economy the way it was. It was a surprise then that a developer had persistently made offers over the last few months but Alcide still refused to sell. He'd expressly told his father he wouldn't sell no matter what the price, although he hadn't said why. Jackson'd been very angry with him. But his father's irritation was nothing to the wrath of Eric Northman and Alcide wasn't going to risk it. Not when his actions that hellish night were to have erased all obligations between his family and the vampire.

"Dad, tell me what you did!" Alcide snapped. "Did you sell that property?"

Jackson seemed not to notice Alcide's tone. Oblivious to consequences, that was Jackson Herveaux, Alcide thought. He tried to be quiet and encourage his father to continue. "I not only sold it at a profit," Jackson chortled. "I heard that the EPA suddenly found hazardous waste buried on the site from years ago and the new owner has to have it all dug up! Down to and including the foundations. All the soil will have to be carted away. We unloaded it just in time!"

"In fact, most of the demolition has already occurred." Jackson added with satisfaction. "That idiot I sold it to didn't even try to fight the EPA order."

Multiple doomsday scenarios blossomed in Alcide's brain, most of them ending in his and his father's blood dripping from the walls. "Dad, I told you not to sell it for any reason," he shouted. "You don't know what you've done!"

"I know I sold a money-losing piece of property for a nice profit, and saved us millions in environmental cleanup in the process!" Jackson retorted angrily. "You clearly didn't have a clue, just sitting on it. I'm still head of Herveaux Contracting and don't you forget it!" The phone clicked in Alcide's ear as his father hung up.

Alcide saw it was now 8:05am and he had two missed calls from the State funding agency that would award the school project.

Damn.

He took a deep breath and dialed Eric Northman's number. He knew the vampire had gone to ground for the day but he left an urgent, though non-specific message on the voice mail asking for a call back. He didn't have a clue who was "in the know" at Eric's on this thing. Any delay in relaying the information would not be looked on kindly by Northman, even if he didn't immediately get the message. Alcide decided to get all the details on the new buyer and go by to inspect the site in the meantime.

Shit, he didn't want to get involved in vamp business again. On the other hand, if his father's actions meant that Sookie might be in any danger, he knew he was in. To very end.


	5. Chapter 5

Sookie woke up late Saturday morning with the fall sun streaming through her windows. Although rested, she felt lazy and unwilling to move from her cocoon of warmth in the bed. She could easily turn over and go back to sleep for another couple of hours, perhaps to dream of more Viking love. She grinned and blushed at the same time. She and Eric had explored each others' bodies on nearly every horizontal surface in her house, and a few vertical ones, too. But that scenario last night had been...well, despite her relative inexperience, she really wanted to "live the dream". And Eric had practically promised he would make it happen, soon. She shivered and felt an urge to explore between her legs again...then pulled the covers up over her head in exasperation. Sex with Eric, real or imaginary, was fantastic but she was not going to be at the mercy of her hormones 24/7.

She didn't work today but there were errands to run and laundry to do. Christmas was in a few weeks and she needed to decorate the house. Even though her family and friends had celebrated a Christmas while Sookie was away with Claudine, from her own point of view this would be Sookie's first holiday without her grandmother. She peeked out from the under the covers. She could just hear her Gran's voice, "Burnin' daylight, pumpkin. Time to get up and at 'em!"

"Ok, ok!" Sookie muttered as she threw off the blankets. "Why couldn't just once I lie in bed all day and be a burden on society?" she complained as she made her bed neatly and stomped off to her bathroom. Mostly she appreciated the sense of order her house-proud Gran had instilled in her but sometimes she wished Gran would take a break and watch Wheel of Fortune.

By the time she finished her morning ablutions and wandered downstairs for a cup of coffee, Sookie's temper had improved. She popped a couple of frozen waffles in the toaster and ate them smeared with homemade apple butter she'd bought at the last church bazaar, and a banana. She washed up the minimal dishes and went upstairs to get dressed. She put on a pair of straight leg jeans with leather ankle boots, a white T-shirt and a khaki army-style jacket. She left her hair down, holding it back with an olive green hair band. The temperature was in the 50s and sunny, she should be warm enough. Grabbing her list of errands, purse and keys, she trotted down the steps of the modest farmhouse her family had lived in for generations. She got in her more-than-used car, which turned over reluctantly, and headed down the long gravel driveway to Hummingbird Road and Bon Temps town center.

Distracted by her errands, Sookie neither saw nor sensed the watcher in the woods behind the house.

Alcide pulled up at the site in his black Ford F350 work truck. He'd hoped never to see this place again. He got out of his truck, his thick black hair whipping in the wind that picked up as the temperature dropped. He pulled up the collar of his thick work jacket. What he saw made his jaw clench in frustration. The eight-foot-tall construction fence around the site was intact but the security gate hung open as it rattled in the wind. A large sign that said "SJR Properties, Ltd." lay over halfway on the ground.

According to his quick research this morning, SJR Properties, Ltd, was a shell corporation located in Barbados. Alcide traced ownership through a series of other dummy companies from the Cayman Islands, to Venezuela and back to the Dominican Republic before he ran up against a blank wall. Maybe Northman would have better luck.

Alcide passed through the gate and explored the area. There was no guard and nobody working even though heavy machinery remained on site. The structures that were so recently built had been completely demolished. As the Were approached, his worst fears were realized: the concrete foundations were totally broken up and lay in pieces all around. If hazardous waste had been the motivation, none of the proper precautions to cart away the debris had been followed. All that was left were large gaping holes in the moist Louisiana soil. He sniffed around for several minutes to see what he could find, but he smelled only humans and a Were or two. That wasn't necessarily cause for alarm, almost any construction crew in Shreveport could have a Were on it. The rest of the location was deserted and it didn't look like anyone would be back. He was sure whoever it was had found what they were looking for.

Alcide returned to his truck and started the engine. He hadn't smelled any fangers. Only old, old death-like a long-buried and decomposed corpse. Of course, that was one way to describe a vampire, right? Alcide cursed to himself again and drove toward Fangtasia.

From her cover in the woods, Francie Devore watched Sookie leave in her car. Francie's instructions were very clear. Obtain entrance to the house using her particular skills, neutralize the target and await further contact from another operative. She wondered idly who it would be. Everything about this job was very compartmentalized, very much on a "need to know" basis. She didn't mind. The money was good and the task she'd been given seemed straightforward enough. If Francie didn't pride herself on being strictly business, she'd feel sorry for the lady. She carefully put any emotion aside as she approached the empty house, but acknowledged someone definitely had a hard-on for revenge against Sookie Stackhouse.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N—As always, thank you for the reviews and adding this story to all the alert lists! I made a terrible oversight in not thanking my amazing beta, Lady Anne. She keeps me going when nothing else does, despite many challenges of her own. Enjoy! _

Pam, Eric Northman's progeny and second-in-command, waited for him when he entered his office at Fangtasia just as dusk fell on Saturday. Eric absently probed the blood bond with Sookie. It seemed rather distant, as if she were in a deep sleep beyond dreams. He puzzled over it a moment, but sent a swell of tenderness through the bond, hoping she was resting so they could be together tonight. Damn, just thinking of her soft, silky skin and full, perfect breasts made him hard. Then he saw the look of irritation on Pam's face and wondered what crisis would prevent him from seeing his lover now.

"There's a message from His Pomposity, King Bill." Pam sneered, immediately sharing the cause of her annoyance. "He wants you to track down a wayward vampire who had the nerve not to come and kiss the royal backside as soon as he stepped foot in the state."

"Now Pam, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." Eric scolded mockingly. As Pam's maker, such a statement effectively rendered her mute. He spent several amusing moments seating himself comfortably at his desk and checking his waiting reports, but he saw Pam's eyes flash angrily and relented. "Who is this villain who earned His Majesty's ire? If he really is running around without having checked with me or Bill, he doesn't sound too intelligent. Perhaps you can have a talk with him."

"Oh, no." Pam said with glee. "The e-mail said "Personally". Underlined. In bold _and_ italics. That means you O Mighty One!"

"Well, it means that the King found the fonts tab in Microsoft Office, at least," Eric muttered as he read the e-mail in question. "This says the vamp came into Merlotte's last night and talked to Sookie. I wonder why she didn't mention it," he mused. "Although she may have had other things on her mind." He gave a smug grin. Pam rolled her eyes. Eric's obsession with the little blond breather she regarded as an irritating and by definition, temporary mental aberration.

"Anton Sejour." Eric considered the long catalog of vampires he had encountered in the last millennium. "I don't know him. Either he is someone quite new or he's deliberately kept a very low profile, perhaps not even been in this country in the last 150 years or so. Which makes me even more interested in speaking to him," Eric decided. "I'll call Sookie in a little bit to find out if she knows where he went. But first, the werewolf Herveaux left an overexcited voice mail demanding an urgent call back at my earliest convenience." Eric glanced at his watch. "Well, now it's convenient."

"Funny you should say that," Pam drawled. "The dog has been waiting, not too patiently, outside for the last hour or so. I hope he's house trained." Just then there was a knock on the office door. Pam opened it, saying "And look who's come at the sound of his master's voice."

Alcide filled the doorway and growled his irritation at Pam's snarkiness. Pam extended her fangs. Eric said, "Pam, go get the evening underway. That's a good girl." It might have been hard for anyone else to flounce out while wearing a black leather boostier and matching hobble skirt, but Pam managed it, shutting the door behind her.

Eric, sitting relaxed but alert in his office chair, turned toward Alcide. "Werewolf." Eric nodded toward his visitor.

"Vampire." Alcide acknowledged tensely.

Pleasantries out of the way, Eric said, "What's the emergency, Herveaux? I didn't think I'd hear from you again so soon."

Alcide barely suppressed a snarl. "I didn't want to get mixed up in your fucking mess again, Northman." Alcide saw Eric's eyes narrow and knew he should get to the point. "But I've got a responsibility here and there may be a threat to Sookie, too. You'll know that better than me."

"I'm still waiting to be enlightened," said Eric dangerously.

Alcide realized he was actually a little afraid and cursed himself for stalling. He took a deep breath and said, "Without my knowledge, my dad sold the property where you buried Russell Edgington."

Ice practically dripping from his words, Eric said "You swore you would keep control of the site. Therefore, you will buy it back. At your own expense, werewolf."

"No, damn it. You don't get it!" Alcide snapped. "The EPA found hazardous waste there and the new owner had to demolish the buildings and dig up the foundations. I went by today and there's nothing left but holes in the ground. Edgington's gone!"

There was a blur of motion. The Were dodged far more quickly than a human but the vampire managed to pin him to the wall with his arm across Alcide's throat. Alcide growled viciously and felt himself begin to shift.

"Change and die, wolf!" Eric snarled, his fangs just inches from Alcide's throat, who saw his death in the Viking's eyes. "If Edgington is gone, who took him? Tell me, you fucking dog!" Eric pressed harder on Alcide's windpipe.

"Some shell company called SJR Properties bought the place," Alcide choked out. "I tried to trace the owners but got bounced all around the Caribbean and South America." He struggled against Eric but didn't get far. "Let me go, you goddamn fanger!"

"SJR Properties..." Eric muttered, still pinning his prisoner to the wall. "SJR...Sejour, Anton Sejour! Pam!" Eric roared. "Get in here, now!"

In seconds, the door burst open and Pam blurred in, followed by a smaller brunette female vampire. Both were in full battle mode, fangs out, hands formed into claws. Eric released Alcide but the wolf knew that to move would be to court death.

Pam smiled evilly. "You bellowed, Master? I thought it might be wise to bring a little back up to the party." She gestured to the brunette. "Lucy was on tourist duty tonight."

Eric looked from Lucy, a fairly young vamp turned in England just after World War II, to the werewolf. "Watch him," Eric ordered briskly. "He's not to leave this room or contact anyone." Lucy nodded and took up a guard position near the door.

"Goddammit, Northman," Alcide yelled. "I came here to warn you."

Eric eyed Herveaux with his thousand-year-stare. "That's the only reason you're still alive. So keep your mouth shut!" He gestured to Pam. "Outside. I have news."

They stepped into the hallway and shut the office door on Alcide's outraged expression. Eric didn't want any other vampires to know about this. He'd only defeated Russell Edgington before with a great deal of luck and a stratagem that would never work more than once. He couldn't begin to imagine how he would beat the vampire, who was three times his age and far more powerful, a second time.

"Someone dug up Russell Edgington." Eric announced bluntly in a low voice.

"Fuck me," Pam whispered, shocked.

"Yes," Eric agreed. "The stupid wolf let the property get sold to someone else. He went by today and there are just holes in the ground where the foundations were. We don't know when that happened. but the company involved is SJR Properties."

Pam immediately saw the connection. "Anton Sejour, our mystery vampire," she concluded. "That's too much of a coincidence."

Eric nodded. "Finding Sejour is the first step to finding Russell Edgington. Put the word out to all our people I want him and I want him now. And able to talk; his condition doesn't matter to me otherwise," he said coldly. "I'll call the King and bring him up to date. All possible resources need to be on this, but nobody else can know about Edgington."

"Eric, the AVL isn't going to like this. If Russell shows up they'll blame you." Pam said worriedly. "They might even sign off on a warrant for your final death. Again."

"They'll have to get in line," Eric snapped as he started down the hall toward the back door of the club. He turned back to his progeny. "Pam, you need to be careful, too. If Edgington really is back he'll be crazier than ever and hell-bent on revenge-on all of us. That's why I've got to go see what Sookie knows, and warn her." Eric didn't usually second guess himself but he wondered if he should have listened to Godric and sent Russell to his final death after all, instead of trying to prolong his suffering by wrapping him in silver and burying him in concrete.

They were now standing in the employee parking lot of Fangtasia. Suddenly Eric staggered, his face full of pain-and fear. Pam grabbed his shoulder when it seemed he might fall to his knees. "Eric, what is it?" She cried. "What's wrong?"

Bloody tears tracked down the Viking's cheeks. "Sookie!" He moaned and launched himself into the night sky.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N—Thank you again for the reviews and continued interest far beyond what I ever anticipated. Much thanks also to my excellent beta Lady Anne. Have fun and as always, I own nothing. Really._

_Earlier that day_

Sookie pulled up next to her house and turned off the car. She sighed at the thought of all the purchases she needed to carry in but nobody else was going to do it. Where was a blond sex god when she needed him? She absently licked her lips at the thought of those broad shoulders and that tight, gorgeous butt, then shook herself. She still had some laundry waiting and it was already late afternoon. Sookie grinned at the thought of Eric hanging clothes on the line, or folding towels in front of the TV. Who did his laundry, she wondered? She made a mental note to ask him and also to see if vampires had a secret for easily getting blood out of sheets and shirts. A definite downside of dating vampires, she'd found. They'd surely come up with something special in the last few thousand years.

She went up the back porch steps that led to the kitchen, her usual entrance to the house. "Only guests and bad news come in by the front door," her Gran used to say. She set down a couple of sacks so she could unlock the door. The key turned in the deadbolt but the knob seemed loose. Just to be on the safe side, she mentally scanned the area but could detect no other brain signatures. She shrugged. Another thing on the list that needed fixing in the beloved old house despite Eric's renovations when he'd bought the place in her absence last year.

By stringing bags on every available appendage she had managed to get everything inside on one trip. She plopped down in a kitchen chair with a sigh of relief. Now she just needed to put it all away.

_Meeooww._

Sookie jerked upright. What on earth? She looked around and saw a small cat curled up on the tile floor. "How did you get in here, sweetie?" she crooned as she knelt beside it. The first thing she noticed was the beautiful tortoiseshell coat with the softest fur she'd ever seen. The second was the long jagged scratch in the cat's left front leg. The edges of skin were bloody, the hair dirty and matted around the wound. Unexpectedly, the cat didn't hiss or growl as Sookie reached out to it. Most animals reacted with fear when hurt, even if used to people. A rough pink tongue licked the fingers Sookie extended, so she risked inspecting the cat more closely. There was no collar but she was obviously well cared for; the fur was sleek and smooth except for the injury. Probably a house cat that got out and tangled with a wild animal in the woods.

Sookie gently stroked the soft coat and was delighted to be rewarded with a purr. She still missed her cat Tina, mutilated by the serial killer Rene over two years ago. "Aww, you poor kitty. Let me get you cleaned right up. Then maybe I'll take you to the vet, that might need stitches." Sookie stood up, and started to head to the bathroom, mentally ticking off the supplies she would need; she didn't have cat food anymore but she could put out some canned tuna...

A sudden glooping sound, like solids dragged through thick liquid caused Sookie to spin around. She barely had time to register a mentally shouted _"Now!"_ from a slender naked female grabbing for her, when Sookie felt a sharp prick in her upper arm. Darkness descended almost instantly, cutting off Sookie's own "Oh, shit!"

Francie Devore, shifter, caught the sedated blond and lowered her carefully to the floor. She set the hypodermic down on the kitchen table. When she picked the door lock earlier, she'd hidden the needle among the knickknacks on the counter where she could reach it quickly and easily. The focus of the take-down had been very clear from her employer; do it fast and with as little pain and fear as possible. The waitress was reportedly a telepath, able to register the mental signatures of humans, shifters and Weres and read their thoughts to varying degrees. The source was unclear about her skills versus vampires but she could tell they were around, at least. The key, as far as Francie herself was concerned, was that Sookie didn't seem to be able to identify shifters in their animal form.

Francie checked her prisoner, finding the girl's pulse and breathing slow and steady. She felt confident enough to go and retrieve the bag of supplies she'd hidden behind the house. She was back in under a minute. Still naked she drew out a roll of duct tape from her bag and proceeded to bind Sookie's wrists and ankles with it; then applied the tape to her mouth. Francie made sure the tape didn't interfere with Sookie's breathing. Once her prisoner was secure, Francie decided it was safe to get dressed in her own jeans and dark knit sweater. She glanced at the self-inflicted wound on her left forearm. It was already beginning to heal a little. An injury often increased the helpless appeal of a small cute animal, and she'd used the tactic effectively in the past.

The shifter locked the back door from the inside and made sure the front door was also locked. She didn't need neighbors walking in unannounced. Heading back to the kitchen, she noted Sookie was still unconscious. The dose of the drug was supposed to last just a few hours. Francie's slender build belied her shifter strength. She scooped Sookie up into a fireman's carry over her shoulder and carried her to the first floor bedroom that appeared to be Sookie's, laying her out on the bed.

The instructions were to wait for the second operative to show up with more details. Francie settled patiently into an old floral chair by the bed. The shadows lengthened as the afternoon wore on. It would be dark soon. After about thirty minutes, there was a text on the disposable cell phone Francie had been given along with the money for this job.

_Go to the back door._

Francie cautiously went to the kitchen door and twitched aside the little curtain to peek out. A large man in motorcycle leathers stood on the steps silhouetted against the late afternoon sun. Her shifter sense of smell told her he was a werewolf. Francie was not pleased. Werewolves were nasty, violent and unpredictable. After a long, considering moment she slowly unlocked the door and stepped back to let the man in. He walked into the kitchen, staring at her from a face covered with tats and multiple piercings, but then he stopped, waiting. Barely suppressed violence rolled off the wolf in waves; she thought he was just inches away from shifting. Damn it. The tension in the room made her edgy, too.

Francie's cell phone chimed. Another text.

_The wolf will take the woman. Change as instructed by the time he returns._

Apparently the Were wasn't going to be talking much. Francie led him into the bedroom where the drugged Sookie lay. Wasting no time, he roughly tossed the blond over his shoulder, hard enough to cause an explosion of air from the unconscious woman's lungs.

"Careful!" The shifter said sharply. "She isn't supposed to be hurt or scared, so take it easy!"

The wolf stared at her as if he'd forgotten she was there. He growled and his eyes turned round and golden. Francie knew if she challenged him more he would change completely and then they'd all be in trouble. Shit, was the guy on something? She'd heard some wolves had gotten hyped up on V last year over in Mississippi but she'd never seen it. She kept her mouth shut and reminded herself this was just business. She followed the man and their prisoner back through the kitchen and watched him move swiftly across the yard to the shadowed woods. She saw no sign of a car so she didn't know where the werewolf was taking the telepath.

Francie shut the back door firmly. Sookie Stackhouse was no longer her concern. Besides, she had one more job to do.

In addition to being a shifter, Francie Devore was a skinwalker.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Thank you doesn't seem to be enough for all those wonderful comments and being added to the alert lists of so many. Making a connection with readers is what writing is all about. Otherwise it's just lonely self love in the dark. :-) I tried to send a PM to each reviewer I could. If I missed you, please let me know and I will let you know individually how much I appreciate you. I hope you have fun and as always, please share your thoughts!_

Anton Sejour waited patiently in a wooded clearing several hundred yards from Sookie's farmhouse. He had gone to ground nearby the night before so he would be ready. Darkness chased the sun from the sky but there would be no moon tonight. The clearing was deeply shadowed, though as a vampire this hardly mattered to him. He glanced around once more to make sure his tools and ingredients were in place. Anton turned his awareness inward to focus on the _loa _he had summoned with the sacrifice of a small rabbit he'd trapped. The spirits twisted and leapt, mirroring the transmuted energy of the animal itself. Anton stilled them with a thought. He would release them at the proper time.

The vampire heard the werewolf approach several moments before he appeared with Sookie over his shoulder. The man called himself simply "Rack" and was one of the scattered remnants of Edgington's Mississippi wolf pack. Anton had fed the werewolf his own blood directly to ensure his addictive loyalty and to be able to track the wolf's movements. Even after a steady month-long diet of the freshest blood Anton could procure, his maker was in no condition to give away his blood to scum like Rack.

Under Anton's stern gaze, Rack deposited Sookie with some care on a tarp laid out on the ground. Anton knelt down and checked his prisoner. Still sedated and restrained but otherwise not the worse for wear. He stood and located the gun he'd brought for the werewolf's use. He made sure it was properly loaded then handed it to Rack.

"You know how to use this kind of weapon?" he asked. The wolf competently checked the gun out for himself, and nodded. "You'll need to use it at close range to be sure," Anton added, then gestured. "Kneel."

Rack tucked the pistol into the back of his waistband and obeyed with animal grace. Anton dipped his finger into the bowl with the special mixture of blood and herbs he'd prepared earlier. Expertly summoning a portion of the _loa's_ energy, his hands warmed and he drew lines of blood on the face of the werewolf while murmuring appropriate words of power. "This will aid you in your mission tonight. You have your instructions, now go."

Rack stood, gave a kind of hunched bow and loped off without a word. Anton drew out his cell phone and texted Francie to let her know of the wolf's return. She had come highly recommended and he had confidence in her abilities. Sadly, he would only need her for a short time.

Dismissing the shifter from his mind, he turned back to Sookie. He drew out the type of safety scissors used in hospitals and proceeded to cut off all of the blond's clothing. In her jeans and jacket her body had looked healthy and a little on the sturdy side, but the lack of clothes revealed the lush bounty of Sookie's figure. With her arms bound beneath her, her back arched offering her breasts up for inspection. Anton thought them true works of art and reached out to stroke the soft skin gently. Her nipples peaked from exposure to the cool night air. Anton shook his head. He could smell her blood flowing in her veins; his fangs extended. But he drew on the strength of the _loa _to restrain his desires. His maker had strictly forbidden him to feed on Sookie Stackhouse. Her fairy blood was precious and not to be wasted.

Taking up the bowl of animal blood mixture again, he painted Sookie's forehead and cheeks in long lines of red. Dipping the fingers of both hands in the liquid, he proceeded to mark her breasts and belly generously. Pouring a pool of blood into his cupped hand, he covered her mound and the area between her legs, inserting his fingers deep inside her. With no visible hesitation, he did the same to her rear passage.

Completing this portion of his preparation, Anton looked down at Sookie. She looked like she'd been bathed in blood. When first captured, it had been important that it happen very fast with little opportunity for fear or pain to warn her vampire lover of any threat. Anton's information was that the two shared a blood bond that allowed for such communication. Sookie might even still share the same link, to a lesser degree, with her former lover, the King of Louisiana. Anton had not wanted to alert either one to her danger before he was ready.

That was about to change.

Cleaning his hands with sanitary wipes, Anton picked up a hypodermic with the stimulant that would counteract the sedative given to Sookie. He pressed the injection to her hip and watched as she began to emerge from unconsciousness. Her eyes blinked slowly as awareness gradually returned, although he knew it would bring her no comfort. He saw her eyes widen in fear as she twisted around trying to figure out where she was. He placed his hand on her shoulder and he sensed exactly when she realized she was naked and bound. Her heart beat in her chest like a panicked bird; her blood sang a song of temptation as it rushed through her body.

His maker had warned him about Sookie's unpredictable fairy power; that it could toss him around like a rag doll. The power of the _loa_ derived from the bones and marrow of this world. With the preparations he had made, he could block much of the effect of the energy her genes drew from the realm of the fae. He was master here, not the damn fairies.

Anton spoke quietly to Sookie. "You will remember me, Miss Stackhouse." He placed himself in her line of vision. "I am Anton Sejour. Russell Edgington is my maker. You are here because of your crimes against him."

Anton ignored her growing anger and muffled attempts at denial. "I did not want our first meeting to be under these difficult circumstances, so I arranged to see you at Merlotte's. Now, however, it is time for us to begin." He placed one hand on Sookie's forehead and one flat on her belly. He called on the_ loa_.

Then he took her to hell.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. Real life interrupted. This is a short chapter but I am almost done editing a much longer one to be posted very soon. Thank you and as always, have fun, read and review!_

Back in the old farmhouse, Francie Devore heard the cell phone chime and read the waiting text.

_The wolf returns. Be ready._

She knew what that meant. She did this rarely because the personal cost to her was so high. But the money offered had been enough to entice her one more time. When she changed into another human, all the memories of how she became a skinwalker came flooding back.

_At fourteen, showing her father's gun to the boy she wanted to impress although she had been forbidden to handle it; her nine-year-old sister yelling that she would tell their parents; the argument and name calling between them; the gun somehow going off, the bullet striking her sister in the chest; her parents' faces at the hospital when they learned the bad news._

These images flashed through her mind as she closed her eyes and willed herself to change. She always felt really nauseated when she transformed but the vomiting up blood would come after she changed back. She opened her eyes and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.

Sookie Stackhouse stared back at her.

It was disconcerting to look out of her own eyes but see someone else, so she turned away and walked into the bedroom. She dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a Bon Temps Softball team T-shirt she'd selected from Sookie's closet. Then she went to the kitchen to look for the werewolf. She didn't wait long. He knocked softly at the back door and she unlocked it to let him in. She had not turned on any lights in the house as it grew darker. Neither she nor the wolf needed the illumination.

She felt the werewolf was more focused now but still extremely tense. He didn't seem surprised at her transformation into the telepath. Francie turned to lead him back into the living room. "So what am I supposed to do while I'm Sookie? Get information out of someone? If it's that vamp she's seeing, I'm not going to let him bite me," she warned.

Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her left shoulder and a wave of dizziness washed over her. She staggered and turned. The werewolf stood with a gun in his hand pointed at her. She saw the end of a dart in her arm and tried to pull it out but missed. She fell to her knees on the floor. She tried desperately to change back to her human self but couldn't do it. Then she tried to shift into animal form, something small and quick-a mouse, a rat, anything, please God! Nothing happened.

Still heavily disoriented, it took her several moments to realize what must be in the dart. Once or twice on jobs she'd used it-the drug Weres and shifters in the military used to suppress the need to shift during the full moon. That plus some sort of tranquilizer would account for her inability to move properly. She wouldn't be able to shift back to herself, even if she became unconscious. Why was this happening? She'd just been doing her job.

The werewolf roughly pulled her up by the arm, only to backhand her across the face again and again. He dropped her to the floor. She tried to crawl away, her blood falling to the tiles like rain. A heavy motorcycle boot rammed into her stomach. She felt ribs crack. Another kick and Francie knew her shoulder was broken. With rope from his pocket, the wolf bound her wrists behind her, then gagged her with tape from her own bag. He pulled out a knife to cut away her jeans and panties. She saw the fist coming and mercifully knew no more.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: The author's note will follow at the end of the chapter. Read, enjoy,review._

Eric flew through the night toward Bon Temps, pushing himself to his absolute limit. He'd never clocked his own flying speed, there had seemed no point. But now, each minute seemed like an hour.

_"Sookie Stackhouse...," Eric said that first night, enjoying his view of the lovely Southern belle's cleavage and how much that annoyed Bill Compton._

_"Great. That's just great." Sookie said nervously. "It's nice to meet you." _

_"Well aren't you sweet," Eric drawled mockingly. _

_"Not really." Sookie snapped. _

_Her spirit was the first thing he loved._

Wave after wave of terror and pain flooded the bond. He tried to suppress his own fear and send Sookie strength and reassurance.

_"The Sheriff of Area 9 in Texas has gone missing." Eric told Bill tersely. "Have you heard about this?"_

_"I hadn't, but I know the vampire of whom you speak. His name is Godric, correct?"_

_"He needs to be found...which is where Sookie comes in." Even then, Eric had felt torn between his desperation to find Godric and the knowledge he could be putting Sookie at risk._

_"No," Bill retorted._

_But Eric's first loyalty had to be to his maker after all. "As she's yours, I'm asking your permission to take her with me to Dallas."_

_"I cannot and I will not allow you to bring her into these matters," Bill said, as if he had a choice. It infuriated Eric that Bill would pull this shit when Godric's safety was in question._

_"I'm only asking your permission out of respect." Eric snapped. "If I want her, I can simply take her!" In that moment, Eric knew Sookie would belong to him._

Sookie was broadcasting her agony with all her being, leaving no room for what he tried to return to her. "I'm coming," he promised. "My lover, be brave."

_She stood there, looking absurdly delectable in that oversized T-shirt, ranting about his treatment of her precious Lafayette. Her loyalty to those she loved was remarkable. "You surprise me, and that is a rare quality in a breather," Eric observed._

_Sookie never pulled her punches when she was riled. He loved that. "You disgust me."_

_She intrigued him. Her mouthwatering scent magnified the fascination. He couldn't help poking at her to set off those delightful sparks. "Perhaps I'll grow on you."_

_She snapped. "I'd prefer cancer!" _

_Once she, Bill and the troublesome Lafayette were gone, he'd erupted in laughter until Pam came to see if he'd lost his mind._

Sookie would survive. She always did. He would give her his blood and she would heal from whatever injuries were causing her such pain. This time would be no different. He was sure of it.

_In the basement of those fucking fanatics in Dallas, he'd found his maker. He knelt in devotion and relief at Godric's feet only to be chastised for sending humans to look for him. He'd noticed then that Sookie's clothes were disheveled and torn, and his brave girl was pulling herself together after some kind of attack. Godric had clearly saved her, and Eric sensed his maker approved of Sookie's valiant spirit._

_Eric had called Lorena to Dallas to drive a wedge between Bill and Sookie for several reasons. One, he needed unfettered access to Sookie's talents to help him find Godric. Bill was an irritating obstruction. Two, he knew Bill was hiding something regarding Sookie, and Eric desperately wanted to know what it was. He'd made Lorena's finding out a condition of providing her access to Bill. And three, he wanted Sookie for his own. He could take her by force, but he found he needed her to desire him, to choose him over the pompous, melodramatic Bill. Once she saw Bill and Lorena together, Eric would be there to provide consolation._

Bill might get there first, but as long as he saved Sookie, Eric would forgive him even if he fed her his blood again. Eric was the one she took to her bed, and there he would comfort her as she recovered from this ordeal. He would caress her smooth skin and kiss away her tears, soothe her fears until she slept in his arms. He would keep her safe.

_Sookie's territorial attack on Lorena at Godric's nest proved that Eric underestimated her feelings for Bill, although Eric knew he was not worthy of them. When the bomb blast provided the opportunity for him to finesse her into taking his blood, he couldn't resist. Although he fought it, he yearned for the day when she would defend him as fiercely. His blood in her veins was the first step and when she put her soft lips on his skin it had been sublime._

_But what she had done for Godric on the roof in Dallas carried Eric far beyond thoughts of claiming or ownership. He was astounded at her grace and understanding for his 2000-year-old maker. She was no saint, thank the Gods. But Eric thought Sookie was the most humane person he'd ever met. He left Dallas grief-stricken at the loss of his maker, but also greatly confused at the depth of his feelings for this amazing human._

Flying through the moonless dark, Eric made himself believe he would be in time to offer rescue and not just vengeance. Although vengeance would surely follow.

_Still reeling from seeing the mark he'd chased over one thousand years and across three continents drawn on the back of a beer coaster, Eric turned his intensity on Sookie. "Here's what I know about werewolves. There's a reason their existence has remained merely a myth to humans for thousands of years. They're territorial, vicious, pathologically secretive."_

"_Boy, does that sound familiar." Sookie quipped._

_Infuriated by her naiveté, he gritted out, "And here's what I know about you. You're so blinded by your obsession with Bill Compton, you're likely to run through the streets, screaming "Werewolf bait!" - alerting whoever has Bill that we're onto them, or getting yourself killed." _

"_You think I'm that stupid?" she snapped._

_Eric looked into her eyes. "No, I think you're human." _

_Defiantly raising her chin, Sookie said, "Don't underestimate me." _

"_Don't underestimate yourself!" Eric growled, his feelings for this woman making him feel vulnerable and exposed. " Your life's too valuable to throw away_."

Sookie raced into danger at the drop of a hat, it seemed. Brave, fierce, and quick-thinking she challenged beings thousands of times more powerful than herself. Despite her demure Southern facade, claiming her was like trying to leash a force of nature. Only a fool would attempt it. Even with a thousand years of accumulated survival instincts, Eric was willing to be that fool.

_Eric could not stop thinking about her, no matter how hard he tried. She even invaded his dreams. What was it Jung said of dreams about flying? _

_"So... how goes the search?" Eric drawled, gracefully sliding into her apartment window in Jackson. _

_Sookie, unaccountably inviting, purred, "Turns out, he's not who I was looking for." She caressed his chest and stepped close enough to kiss. "You smell like the ocean in winter. How is that possible? Bill doesn't smell like anything." _

_Eric was mesmerized by her scent and her words. "It's not possible."_

_Sookie inhaled deeply and he sensed her red blood cells flooding with oxygen from the air exchange in her lungs. Intoxicating. "You played by the North Sea as a child," she decided._

_"Yes," he said wonderingly. "How do you know?" _

_She smiled like the siren she was, the mysterious smile of every woman in her power. "I'm smelling your memories." _

_Eric felt uncertain and excited, like a young boy with his first lover. "Not even you can do that," he whispered. _

_"Oh, I've got skills you can't even dream of, cowboy," Sookie pulled his head down for a kiss. Then she pushed him back on the bed and crawled up his long, lean body. "Want more?" _

Eric would not let anything or anyone take Sookie from him. She was destined to be his. For all time. He knew Russell Edgington was behind his lover's suffering and the older vampire would pay dearly. Eric wished Talbot was alive so he could torture Russell all over again. Eric would allow Sookie to wear Russell's fangs as earrings and bathe in his blood if she wished. He would lay vengeance at her feet as a gift.

_Eric stood in the foyer of Russell Edgington's ridiculously ornate Mississippi Palace, at the crossroads of his greatest dream and his worst nightmares coming true all at once. Russell, the fucking King of Mississippi, was the one who slaughtered his human family and stole his father's crown. His thousand year old quest was over. But the Magister had Pam, his child, in his bony hands and he was torturing her; toying with her while Eric attempted to bring back that troublesome pissant Bill Compton. Compton seemed to have suddenly developed a backbone and betrayed his Queen to swear allegiance to the King of Mississippi. _

_It hadn't been difficult to trace Bill to here. Lorena's greedy little fingerprints were all over Bill's pre-emptive kidnapping at the restaurant, though the wolves had thrown Eric at first. A little checking had revealed her most recent travels had taken her to the court of the King. And, of course, that left Sookie right in the middle of everything. As usual. Why was her safety always pitted against the thing he wanted most? He had to bring Compton back to save Pam. He had to obtain vengeance on Russell to fulfill his vow to his father. He had to make Russell believe Eric was loyal to him to help bring these things about. And Russell wanted Sookie, whatever she was. _

_Fuck._

_"Please tell me you were just doing that for the king's benefit," Sookie pleaded after Eric stood by while Lorena was ordered to execute Bill. _

_"I don't think anyone plays the King of Mississippi and gets away with it. I certainly have no intentions of trying," said Eric, furiously trying to come up with a plan that would achieve all his goals with everyone he loved coming out alive. _

_"Why are you even here? I thought you had other things to deal with," Sookie said sarcastically while Eric escorted her to Russell's study. _

_"Yeah, I do, and I need to think," Eric said absently, his arm around her shoulders to make sure she didn't try something stupid. "So please don't take this the wrong way, but shut up." _

_Sookie's distress was utterly distracting, even if it was for the benefit of stinking Bill Compton. "Eric, please, I'm begging you-" _

_As much as he desired her, he'd often thought of doing this when Sookie's mouth just didn't know when to stop. His large hand covered the entire lower half of her face and there was blessed silence. "Thank you." _

_In Russell's study, Eric deposited Sookie in an overstuffed chair. She sat up, quivering in anger. "So all that stuff about caring about me? That was just crap?" _

_Eric kept a look out for Russell coming back. He didn't want him to hear this conversation. "I never said I cared about you. Maybe you dreamt it." _

_"You big phony. Big hat, no cattle," Sookie spat. _

_Where did she come up with these expressions? "Do you mind? I'm trying to think here." None of his options looked promising. _

_Sookie tried another angle. "I thought you said my life was too valuable to throw away." _

_"You are valuable." Eric said, deliberately misunderstanding her. "That's very clear. I'm just not sure why." He hoped her fear and anger would persuade Russell that Eric was on his side. _

_"Sookie, I'm risking everything to tell you this 'cause you mean so much to me." She mocked him insultingly. "You make me feel almost human." _

_She had pushed him far enough. He had let her glimpse his soul and she ground it in the dirt. Couldn't she see what he had tried to do for her?_

_"You mean nothing to me, understand?" He shouted at Sookie's shocked face. "Nothing! I'm very close to getting something I've wanted since I was still human. Do not get in my way!"_

_"I hate your fuckin' guts, Eric Northman," she snarled. "I promise I will pay you back for this." _

He could feel Sookie calling for him in agony. He knew she depended on him to come save her, to stop the pain and end the fear. Her pleas in the bond were becoming more terrified and desperate. But she was not giving up. She believed with absolute certainty that he was coming for her. That he would destroy who or whatever got in his way.

_Eric didn't know why he should be surprised at Sookie showing up at Fangtasia when he was minutes away from a final showdown with Russell Edgington. She always turned up at the least expected, and usually, most inopportune moments._

_"What did you mean, you're not gonna be around much longer?" She demanded without preamble. _

_Eric was tired and he still had to fight the most dangerous battle of his life. "Don't pretend you care about me. This is about Bill. Deep down, you know you shouldn't trust him." _

_"Okay," Sookie admitted, much too quickly for Eric's taste. "Tell me why." _

_Eric stared deeply into the eyes of the woman who'd fascinated him, enthralled him and aggravated him every single moment since he'd met her. "Here's the truth. There are forces beyond even my control, and if I meet the true death without having at least kissed you, Sookie Stackhouse, it would be my biggest regret." _

_Sookie's sable brown eyes gazed back at him, full of doubt, and desire. "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye to me?" _

_"Because I am," Eric said and grasping the back of her neck firmly, pressed his lips against hers. At first she resisted, and like the Viking he had been, he plundered the sweet depths of her mouth with his tongue. But in a moment her arms wrapped around his neck and she returned his kiss with interest. _

_Until Pam knocked on the door to bring them both back to reality._

Eric knew that as a vampire and a Sheriff, he'd sometimes put Sookie rather far down on the list of his priorities. He'd seen Bill try and fail to serve two, maybe even three masters in his relationship with Sookie: The Queen, the AVL, and his lover. Bill had twisted himself up with so many secrets he'd ended up betraying the one he loved most. Eric would not make the same mistake. He wouldn't give up being the vampire he was to play human for Sookie. She needed him as he was, to protect her and love her as only a true vampire could.

_Sookie turned on him as soon as he unlocked the door and walked in his office. "Where the hell have you been?" _

"_I needed to think." Pam had been right. He had the answer in front of him._

"_Well, I am not some kind of prisoner you can just lock up any time you feel like taking off," Sookie announced, getting ready to leave. _

_To go back to Bill. Which made this a tiny bit easier._

"_Actually, you are." Eric picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She didn't just hammer her fists uselessly on his back like a stupid movie heroine. She grabbed at shelves, chairs, the doors; she fought like a tiger to escape him. Her courage and ferocity warmed his cold heart. She was magnificent. He would not let that spirit be snuffed out._

_He carried her down to the basement. Russell had to believe she was his prisoner. So she had to believe she was in prison. _

_"I knew I shouldn't trust you!" Sookie screamed._

_"You were right," Eric said and dropped her onto the cement floor. He tried to imagine that she would forgive him for this but he would settle for her survival. He locked an iron collar around her throat._

_"Let me go!" Sookie cried. "Eric!" Her fear echoed in his mind as he left to lure Russell Edgington into his fairy-baited trap. _

That the first time he tasted his lover was against her will, while she writhed in pain from Russell's assault and his own, would always haunt Eric. He wondered if that was why he'd so quickly promised not to feed on Sookie after she found him lost and alone on the road. When they made love, he'd concentrated on the exquisite sights and scents of her body, rather than thinking about how sweet she must taste. His vampire instincts had ridden him hard, demanding he sink his fangs deep in her smooth skin. But he saw her trust, so fragile at first, begin to blossom into faith and then love as he disciplined his own desires. He'd promised never to betray her.

_Standing on Sookie's porch covered in cement, Eric wondered if he'd chosen the right penalty for Bill's assassination attempt. By all rights he should have torn his head off. But watching Bill finally be forced to tell Sookie the truth about how he was sent by the Queen to procure her, he thought this was a far more satisfying punishment._

_"He tried to silence me tonight so you would never know. He doesn't want to protect you. He only wants to protect himself," Eric couldn't resist twisting the knife in Bill's back. He so richly deserved it. Eric tried not to smile as Bill was forced out of Sookie's house and she threw him out of her life. _

_Eric saw Bill land in the dirt as he flew off the porch. "I want my phone back," Eric said. The vanquished rival quit the field. Good riddance, Eric thought. Then he turned to see the heartbreak in Sookie's beautiful face. It unaccountably caused him pain. _

_Though emotionally devastated, she was not defeated. "You too. Get the fuck off my porch and out of my life." _

_Of all the things he could tell her about how she made him feel, he felt this was the most important. "For the record, I would never have given you to Russell." _

_Sookie wasn't ready to listen to anything he had to say. "Go back to hell where you came from, you fucking dead piece of shit." _

_Eric looked directly into her tear-filled eyes. He knew hard truths had to be faced and dealt with before healing could begin. "I am sorry to see you suffer like this. I thought you had the right to know." _

_Leaving her alone in her grief was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. _

Sookie vanished the night he buried Russell Edgington. At first, Eric reeled like a ship in a storm without an anchor. His bond with her gone, his panicked thought was that Russell had returned somehow and killed her. But there was no sense of pain or fear, no tell-tale signs of violence in their connection before it ended. It simply switched off as if a current was cut. Sookie was part fairy, a creature so rare even Russell had thought her kind was a myth. Who knew where she had escaped to in the extremity of her heartbreak? Wherever she was, Eric vowed not to give up hope, even if everyone else did.

_In the yard of Compton's house, Eric knelt in the moonlight, submitting to his King's verdict for being a puppet of the necromancer. He pled for Pam's release before she succumbed to the witch's rotting spell. His last request was for Sookie. "Tell her: I was born the night she found me. I will go to my true death knowing what it means to love. Tell her thank you."_

He loved her. He'd told her, in the chaotic moments after his memories returned. He'd expected her to throw herself in his arms, share his happiness at finding himself once more. But nothing was ever simple with Sookie. When she said she was confused and might still love Bill, too, he'd been furious. Even when she returned to his arms and his bed, he'd punished her by never saying the words again.

_Freed due the King's mercy, or guilt, Eric flew back to the haven of Sookie's embrace. After surviving the first call of the witch to meet the sun, Eric desired only to become one with his lover. They mutually exchanged blood and the bond deepened between them into profound intimacy. Eric felt exposed to the bare bones of his soul but knew he could trust Sookie. He wanted this idyll to never end. _

_Eric stirred the fire, then joined Sookie nude in bed. Sookie caressed his arm, and said dreamily, "Wish you could stay this way forever." Eric curled next to her. "Then let's run away. From everything. And I'll be this way forever. I don't need to know who I am."_

_Sookie shook her head. "You can't just run away. Those witches attacked you. And other vampires I care about." Eric gazed into her eyes. "My King," he added. She gave him a direct look. "Yes, your King. Who released you so you could be with me." _

_Eric lay back on the pillows. "He's good this King. I understand your love for him." Sookie sat up. "We have an obligation to stand by his side and fight with him."_

_"No," Eric said. This much he knew as a vampire. "The obligation is his. As King he has no choice. Let's just leave this place while we still can." He hated the pleading in his voice, but he was terrified of losing her if the Viking barbarian returned to inhabit his soul. _

_Sookie gave the answer she always gave if someone suggested she run. "This is my home and we cannot just leave Bill to die. It's not right."_

_The words came to him as if from out of dream. "There is no right or wrong," he told her. "These are human notions." _

_Sookie refused to give in to such sophistry. "And I am human." She added, "mostly. "And so were you. And I've never seen you as human as you've been these past few days. It's what I've fallen in love with." Eric savored those words. She loved _him_. "But you're also a warrior, and you'd never run from a fight," she urged. "You'd never forgive yourself." _

_Eric felt colder all of a sudden. The old Eric never ran. Noble death over a shameful life with Sookie? Some choice. "I just want to be with you. Only you." He pled one last time. "Forever." _

_Sookie gazed at him sadly. "There's no such thing as forever." _

He spotted the lights of Bon Temps and a few seconds later, the gravel driveway to Sookie's house. Finally. Eric swore he wouldn't let her forever end tonight.

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Sookie tried to roll with the kicks and punches raining down on her face, her breasts, her belly...Being unable to scream was a torment...bones cracked, then broke...blackness came and went...there was a knife...countless little slashes _everywhere..._both her eyes were swollen shut...couldn't see where the next blow came from...each new pain a horrible surprise...her sobs were muffled by the tape but she tried to control them, if her nose became too clogged she would suffocate...pain seized her mind and body; with no beginning and no end; it was her new religion...she prayed for rescue-Eric, Bill, Sam...then prayed her captor would let her speak, she would tell him, promise him...what?..._anything_...make it stop_...Eric, where are you? It hurts so much...please come...pleasepleaseplease..._

For a blessed moment, the pummeling and cutting stopped. She was flipped over to her stomach, her legs spread apart. The wrong end of the knife...No, God! No!

_**Violation...**_

Then nothing.

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_A/N: This chapter was a bit of an experiment, moving back and forth in time between Eric flying to Sookie's rescue and his memories of their past. As you see, I used extensive dialogue from scenes in the True Blood TV series. I did this with all humility and thanks to the talented writers. I tried to stay true to the meaning of the scripted lines as I turned it into narrative. In the past I've had mixed feelings when fan fiction writers use a lot of dialogue or prose lifted from the original writer. So I was nervous about doing this. But after trying many different approaches to Eric's scene, this is the one that felt right. I hope it worked for you. I'm interested in hearing either way. I like a dialogue with those who read my stories so I can see how to improve and if what I think is effective really is. _

_So, let me know what you think. Thank you to all who have stuck with me so far. I hope you won't be disappointed as we go forward. The story does go really dark for awhile with a few alleviating lemons here and there. I hope the journey is worthwhile. _

_As always, my beta Lady Anne is fantastic and I could not do this without her._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thank you all again for your continued interest and support! I will be responding to all recent reviews individually to express my deep appreciation. The characters are owned by CH and AB. I just play in their sandbox. Read, review and enjoy the beautiful weekend!_

Bill rose early; the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Sookie was on his mind for some reason. Oh yes, the errant Anton Sejour. He was interested to see what the vampire might have said to Sookie and it would give him an excuse to see her. He had few enough of those these days. His awareness of the bond with her seemed heightened as well, although he usually did his best to ignore it. It had begun to fade with time until he'd had to give his blood to Sookie to save her life in the Witch War. Then it had flared to life again and with it Bill's awkward inclusion into the bond with Sookie and Eric. To save his sanity, he'd worked hard since to block it as much as he could. Only the most intense emotions could get through now.

To prove to himself he could stay away from Sookie-if he really wanted to-he delayed going to see her. Bill consulted with Connie on several items, including how his new sheriffs were handling their areas. The Witch War had decimated their ranks and it was unusual to have to break in so many new underlings at the same time. So far his choices were turning in solid performances. He was still handling Area 1, which included New Orleans, himself. He hadn't found the right leader for it yet. If he thought Eric would consent, he would have appointed him there as it needed a strong hand. But Eric was heavily invested in Area 5, and he would never leave Sookie.

Someone else, then.

"Connie," Bill said slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. "Make a note to set a meeting with Sheriff Northman and his second, Pam to discuss the possibility of Pam becoming a Sheriff in her own right."

Connie raised an eyebrow in question, but nodded. "You don't like Pam and she has no great love for you. But she will acknowledge your authority as long as Eric remains loyal. She ran Fangtasia and Eric's other enterprises smoothly in his absence. If she will leave her maker and could bring herself to work for you directly, she will be a very good choice."

Bill smiled. Connie's grasp of vampire politics and personalities was always spot on. Remarkable for a human. "There are a lot of "ifs" but we will see what the response may be. Put the appointment on the schedule."

The distant sound of Jessica's voice upstairs brought to mind another item that needed handling. "Connie, please ask Jessica to step in here for a moment."

As usual, Bill felt guilty that he hadn't been able to pay a lot of attention to his own progeny lately. He'd been dealing with the aftermath of the chaos the witches had created. But Jessica needed her maker more than she needed a King. She seemed at loose ends since her relationship with Hoyt ended. Her fling with Jason Stackhouse had also ended badly, although Bill didn't know all the details.

But what worried Bill the most was the fact that Jessica, who had performed with great determination and courage in the witch crisis, seemed to be increasingly disdainful of all human beings. She'd quit her job at Merlotte's. She stayed at Bill's house and while he provided her with True Blood or donors and clothes he was not giving her money. He wasn't sure where she was getting it and knew he needed to find out. She spent a lot of time at Fangtasia. He got reports that she was a regular patron of the fang bangers, leaving with a different one every night. He thought she was hurt and angry at the human men in her life. She was still very young and had a lot of maturing to do as a vampire. Bill didn't want her anger to lead her to treat humans as mere objects for food or sex. The end of that road led straight to monsters like Lorena, his own maker.

Connie returned to the office, interrupting Bill's morose thoughts. "I tried to catch her but she blurred right out the door as soon as she saw me." she said ruefully. "Do you want me to send someone after her?"

_It's six o'clock. Do you know where your progeny is?_

Damn. If he pulled rank, he would defeat his own purpose. Maker or King, he couldn't win. "No, but I want to know as soon as she returns. And she is to attend me here, no excuses!"

"Kids!" Connie murmured, her eyes amused.

Bill gave her a hard stare. Connie returned a blandly innocent gaze but said nothing more, turning her attention to her Ipad. Bill looked at his own screen to see that Eric had answered his e-mail about Anton Sejour. Eric didn't know him but would begin an immediate search. Good, Bill thought, a little guiltily. A mystery remained, which meant he still had an excuse to see Sookie.

_Terror. Agony. Despair._

Bill was paralyzed for a moment under the sheer weight of horror avalanching through the bond. "It's Sookie!" he cried. "Send backup to her house," he shouted at Connie's alarmed expression. "Now!"

And then he was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: A bonus chapter to round out the action. Much more to come. Enjoy._

Bill's mind raced as he ran at blinding speed through the cemetery. In searing flashes, visions of Sookie appeared. Walking through the gravestones and trying to glamour her, only to have her laugh out loud at him; making violent, passionate love in the cool moist earth after she had thought him truly dead. Sookie, his miracle; who'd revealed the remnants of his own humanity. He couldn't lose her.

He blurred into Sookie's yard and there, on her front porch, a nightmare confronted him. A large man that Bill identified as a werewolf by his scent held a hunting knife at Sookie's throat. Her battered condition ignited a blood-hot rage within him. She appeared barely conscious. Her face was bruised and swollen, her nose bloody, her mouth covered with duct tape. Her arms were bound behind her back. One arm hung crookedly as if broken. Having it wrenched behind her must be causing excruciating pain. She was dressed in the shreds of a thin T-shirt and nothing else. Blood dripped from long scratches on her legs...Bill cursed viciously to himself.

Pain still flooded the bond, causing a weird double echo in his mind. It was like she was here and somewhere else, too. Bill shook his head. The werewolf would die, slowly and painfully, he promised. Bill would take great pleasure in it but first he had to get Sookie away.

"Release her!" Bill shouted. "You're dead but you can die slow or fast, depending on whether you let her go right now!"

The wolf only grinned. Bill tried to take a few steps forward but the werewolf shook his head, digging the knife deeper into Sookie's neck until she groaned. Bill stopped. "What do you want? Goddammit, just tell me and I'll give it to you!" He cried desperately.

Bill suddenly sensed another presence beside him in the dark. He glanced to his left and saw Eric. Eric's face looked as haunted as his own must. The wolf came to attention when he saw the second vampire, as if all the required parties were now in attendance. Without any words being spoken, in a moment Bill would replay over and over, the werewolf simply slid his knife deeply across Sookie's throat. Her life poured out in a red river onto the wooden boards and down the steps.

_No threats. No demands. No rescue. _

A breathless moment passed then Eric let out a guttural howl of grief and rage. He raced toward the werewolf standing on the porch, who still clutched Sookie's lifeless body. Bill was about to join in for the kill when he saw something in the Were's eyes. Surprise, but not about two vampires rushing to tear him apart; it was something else. Bill hesitated, then dove to tackle Eric from behind, knocking him aside. At that exact moment, the werewolf burst into flames.

And as the vampires who loved her watched, so did Sookie Stackhouse.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Thanks seem so little in the face of the encouragement you all have given me on this story. I only hope your continued interest is rewarded. I appreciate each and every person who takes the time to read, especially when I am privileged to be added to alert lists and a person is motivated enough to leave a review. Thank you again._

Bill's mind was curiously blank as he sat on the grass. He couldn't process what he'd seen. The bond was empty, leaving only shattered silence. When she had disappeared into the realm of the fae, Bill's connection to Sookie vanished, as if she had never existed. He'd mistaken that for what it would feel like if she died. Now, there were after-images of Sookie in the bond, like those left under closed eyes after a bright flash of light. But the impressions of her were pale and fleeting, and he could not save them. She was gone.

Not more than five minutes had passed since Bill appeared in Sookie's front yard but nothing would ever be the same. He thought Eric had gotten up and looked around for him. They needed to...what? Bill's mind took him no further and he sank his head into his hands.

A heavy weight knocked him back to the ground. Two hands fastened around his throat and Eric's face loomed over him, fangs bared. "You were here first!" Eric snarled. Red streaked his cheeks and death haunted his eyes. He looked every one of his thousand years. "Why didn't you kill the wolf and save her?" The vampire's grip tightened on Bill's throat viciously. "You lied and betrayed her at every turn. And now she's dead! Because of you! You're useless as a vampire and a fucking failure as King!"

Bill knew Eric was about to kill him and in this moment, he thought he might deserve it.

"Release the King, Sheriff Northman," a familiar voice ordered. "I have men with me armed with wooden bullets. You have three seconds to let him go or I give the order to shoot," said Connie Mitchell. Her usual neat appearance was mussed but she looked steady as a rock. Six black-clad, heavily armed guards surrounded her, semi-automatic rifles aimed straight at Eric. Half a dozen red points of light centered on his chest.

Eric didn't move. "You won't be able to give any orders if I break your neck first," he said, but some of the rage seemed to have left him.

"One," Connie counted, as if she hadn't heard the threat. "Two-" Eric released Bill and threw him aside. "Your Majesty?" Connie asked without taking her eyes off Eric.

Bill picked himself up, answering, "I'm fine. Stand the men down."

"But," Connie began, then saw Bill's expression and stopped. She looked toward Sookie's house and back at the two vampires. "I'm so very sorry." She motioned to the guards, who moved off but not very far.

"Eric," Bill said cautiously. "I understand-"

"You understand _nothing_!" Eric growled. "_You _are nothing. Sookie is-" He stopped. "You never deserved her."

"I know." Bill closed his eyes in pain.

"Spare me your martyr's pose," Eric sneered. He paced up and down for a few moments. "Maybe witnesses are a good thing," he muttered, turning to face his former underling.

"William Compton," he said coldly. "I formally renounce, now and forever, my oath of allegiance to you as King of Louisiana. I will not serve you as Sheriff. I do not recognize in you the authority of the AVL or the Vampire Authority itself. I am no longer yours to command."

Suddenly Bill was glad to have something to focus on besides the abyss of grief inside him. He turned his fury on the other vampire. "Well fuck you, too Eric," Bill hissed so that only the two of them could hear.

Then because the witnesses _were_ important, he said in a louder voice, "Eric Northman." And the King recited the words required by vampire law and tradition. "By your own admission, you are foresworn in your duty as my subject and as Sheriff. You will forfeit all assets and property. I declare you outlaw in the State of Louisiana. Any who give you shelter or assistance will suffer punishment. You have until dawn to leave my kingdom on pain of the true death." Bill added, "If I see you again, I will kill you."

At that moment, Sookie's house exploded.

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Anton looked down at the unconscious woman laying in front of him. Although she was covered in blood, none of it was her own. The torture she'd endured at his hands had all been in her mind, a scenario constructed with the power of the _loa, _though her suffering had been very real. But the physical injuries had been an illusion. Anton's maker had demanded that the Norseman endure the grief of losing one he loved, as Russell mourned for his lover and progeny Talbot, whom Eric had killed. But the former King of Mississippi still wanted to preserve Sookie's blood for his own use. Forcing Sookie to experience severe pain and terror had been necessary to bring Eric to the right place and time for the staged murder of his lover; to increase his suffering and helplessness.

And the Viking would suffer yet more before he would beg for his final death at the hands of Russell Edgington.

Anton regretted the end of Francie Devore, but more as the loss of a tool he'd found valuable, than from any remorse for his actions. He didn't care about the loss of the wolf at all.

He heard an explosion in the distance. As instructed the werewolf had rigged the propane tank in back of Sookie's house to blow up. It would cause confusion about Sookie's apparent death and help disguise the fact that a shifter had been in the house. By enspelling the wolf and shifter to burst into flames, there would be no proof that Sookie was not the one who died. Demon fire burned so hotly that it left no evidence for even modern DNA analysis to identify.

It was time to go. All his belongings were packed and the clearing swept of any evidence of their presence. He lifted Sookie into his arms and sped to the car he'd parked off the road, about a mile away.

Using his skill in the magic of the _loa_ while in Sookie's mind, he'd constructed a barrier to block Sookie's blood bond with any vampire at the precise moment the wolf killed the shifter. With Sookie's apparent death and the inability of the vampires to feel a connection to her, nobody would ever come looking for the blond telepath.

He wrapped Sookie in a blanket and locked her in the trunk of the rental car he'd obtained. Then he started the engine and drove off into the night, his headlights raking the thick woods lining the road. It was time for Sookie to meet his maker.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: As always, I own nothing. The characters come from the fertile minds of CH and AB. Read, review and enjoy!_

Waking up naked, bound and gagged in the trunk of a car is probably a woman's worst nightmare. Every self-defense article Sookie had ever read concluded that at this point, your chances of surviving what your assailant had planned for you were about zero. Add to that calculation the fact her particular assailant was the evil vampire minion of an even more evil three-thousand-year old undead maniac and Sookie figured her percentages were way into negative numbers. She wondered why she wasn't dead already.

In fact, she wondered why she didn't feel a lot worse than she did. Even tied up, she could tell her ribs and wrist weren't broken. There were no cuts although she felt herself covered in dried blood. The memories of pain and violation were horribly real but she began to realize that somehow, it hadn't actually happened. Was the illusion of torture, intimately experienced and branded upon her soul, still torture? That was a question up there with how many angels could break dance on the head of a pin, she decided. To her, it was definitely torture and whoever was responsible deserved no credit just because her body was still whole. Especially when she remained the captive of ruthless vampires who probably had preserved her blood simply to drain her at a time of their own choosing.

There. Now she'd come to it, and her breath hitched, dangerously on the edge of panic. Why was she still here? Where was Eric? Where was Bill? That damn blood bond should have brought them to her rescue by now. Had they tried and failed? Was Eric dead? She suppressed a sob of terror at the thought. Surely such an attempt would have led to a violent battle that Sookie would have been aware of in some way? Sookie knew she'd broadcast enough fear and pain to swamp a dozen vampires; at the time, in too much turmoil to receive or understand anything being sent to her. But if Eric or Bill had gotten close enough to fight for her, she should have had some sign!

So she struggled now to clear her mind and _listen_ in the bond. She heard only an echoing silence. How could that be? She redoubled her efforts until she was shaking and her head throbbed. Then she tried to project her very real fear but she could tell it went nowhere. There was nowhere for it to go.

_The links of the blood bond were broken._

For the first time since she met Bill Compton there was nobody who could feel her emotions, or know she was in danger. Though she'd often grumbled about the inconvenience of her close bond with Eric, she'd slowly adapted to it and even come to depend on it. Now it seemed there would be no powerful Viking flying to her rescue, no brooding King riding in to save the day. At least not right away.

If Eric couldn't trace her through the blood bond, wouldn't he find clues, figure out that Russell Edgington was behind this and find out where she was being taken? Or maybe her family and friends-Jason, Sam? Then she thought about what Russell could do to them and prayed they would defer to Eric or Bill to find her. She didn't want to die but she didn't want anyone to sacrifice themselves for her, either.

She sternly lectured herself for several moments not to panic. If she was going to survive she had to stay calm and above all, she had to _think._ Taking deep breaths through her nose, she tried to imagine how Eric would analyze this. He was, before anything else, a survivor. If she could think like him, she might just have a chance.

After slaughtering a newscaster on nationwide TV, Russell Edgington was arguably the most recognizable vampire in America. He couldn't just wander around the streets on his own, someone would report him. Sookie didn't know a lot about vampire politics but she'd seen Nan Flanagan on a constant round of cable news shows trying to repair the vampire image in the wake of Edgington's actions. The AVL wouldn't be happy about him showing up again.

The American Vampire League's official story was that Edgington had committed suicide after his terrorist act, in some undefined vampire way. The AVL wouldn't want to be seen as liars or fools. So they should be putting lots of resources into finding him as soon as they discovered he was back. She hoped that meant Eric would have the AVL on his side this time in fighting Russell. And in finding her.

Logically, Russell didn't have the power available to him that he once had as King of Mississippi. She seemed to remember Bill mentioning that a new King had been appointed of that state, although Bill was involved in some dispute with the new ruler over assets they both claimed. Or something. Bill always tended to be really vague about vampire business and being King had only increased his secretiveness.

The vamp who'd snatched her, this Anton Sejour, said Edgington was his maker. In all her interactions with Russell, the only progeny he or anyone else had mentioned had been Talbot, his beloved companion of seven hundred years. Talbot had been staked by Eric in revenge for Russell's slaughter of Eric's entire family back when Eric was human. Russell had had some weird idea that Sookie's fairy blood might be able to bring Talbot back to life. That is, until Sookie had poured Talbot's bloody remains down the garbage disposal while Russell howled in grief. She wasn't particularly proud of that moment, but considering what Russell would have done to her, it'd felt damn good.

Of course, she might be paying for that brief moment of triumph now. Maybe Russell wasn't being careful with her for her blood but wanted a really horrible, _personal _revenge...No, don't think about that, she scolded herself. She had no use for any thoughts that weren't productive and focused on survival. Some more deep breathing followed.

Ok, then.

Back to guy who was so far the cause of all her current trouble, the mysterious Anton Sejour. Was he somebody that Edgington had just made to help him out? It was possible, but a brand new vampire would have had a really hard time not draining her on the spot. Sejour had some major control over his blood lust, which argued that he was at least Bill's age, maybe older.

And that was another thing. Power. Sejour had it. Magic, mind control, something. He used it to torture her in her own mind, and she was pretty sure he was responsible for the blood bond being broken, too. She also hadn't been able to summon her fairy powers to defend herself. They were unpredictable at best so she had put her inability down to being too badly tormented to call upon them effectively. Now she wondered if Sejour had ripped that out of her as well.

So, no bond with Eric or Bill, no fairy defenses, and a vampire magic user. Plus, Russell Edgington.

Maybe it was time to panic after all.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: As always, the response to this story humbles me. Sookie is in a tight spot, but the Viking always gets his man, right? Or is that the Mounties? Could be a fanfic in that—Sookie as Penelope and Eric as Dudley Do Right? Anyway, please read, enjoy and review! And thank you to the marvelous beta Lady Anne who keeps me on the right path._

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_[S]he was my North, my South, my East and West._

_My working week and my Sunday rest._

_My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;_

_I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong._

_The stars are not wanted now; put out every one; _

_Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; _

_Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; _

_For nothing now can ever come to any good._

-W.H. Auden _The Funeral Blues_

_His [Odin's] men rushed forwards without armor, were as mad as dogs or wolves, bit their shields, and were strong as bears or wild oxen and killed people at a blow, but neither fire nor iron told upon them. This was called Berserkergang._

-Snorri Sturluson (1179-1241) in his _Ynglinga Saga_

_I'll ask of the berserks, you tasters of blood,_

_Those intrepid heroes, how are they treated, _

_Those who wade out into battle?_

_Wolf-skinned they are called. In battle they bear bloody shields._

_Red with blood are their spears when they come to fight._

Thorbiorn Hornklofi (late 9th Century skaldic poem in honor of King Harald Fairhair)

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Eric rolled with the force of the blast as Sookie's beloved house erupted into a fireball, flames shooting high above the surrounding trees. He found his feet within seconds. Bill wasn't as agile, although he was upright fairly quick. The human office drone and guards weren't as lucky, lying motionless on the ground several yards away. Sentimental Bill ran toward them.

Eric knew _the King _would be looking for him in a minute, and took advantage of the distraction to fly off into the night. He heard sirens in the distance. Human law enforcement would be here soon. He felt a bitter pleasure in leaving Bill to deal with the mess.

He flew several miles away in a sort of daze and then landed in a thickly wooded area he didn't recognize. The usual animal sounds of evening went silent in his presence. Nocturnal creatures they might be, but each one sensed this night walker existed in a far darker world than Nature had ever intended. When he roared like an angel cast out of Paradise, full of ancient sorrow and suffering, the creatures fled.

Eric went into a frenzy, tearing up trees by the roots; his fingers like claws, he scoured great gouges in the earth. He uncovered a large boulder and cracked it in two with his fists. He ripped at his own skin with bared fangs and tore at his hair. He dug into his own chest, shredding tissue and cracking bone: he had no use for his dead heart now, it would never beat nor know love again. Blood poured out, soaking the ground and he fell to his knees.

He screamed his rage at the stars til his throat was raw. They shone back, cool, uncaring and eternal.

He cried out for his maker. "Godric! _Fader, broder, son!_ Forever. That's what you promised!" Crimson tears poured down cheeks sunken from an already dangerous loss of blood. "You forsake me and then you appear like a phantom pleading that my greatest enemy deserved peace! Now Sookie is gone! Russell has stolen my lover, my soul. She was my light, my redemption!"

Eric staggered to his feet, leaking red gore from his wounds. "Where are you now, Godric?" He mocked the darkness in his ruined voice. "You can show up to beg for Russell Edgington but not at the death of the girl who wept for you when you surrendered your existence! She _lived, _Godric! She was so alive. She never gave up." Eric swiped his arm across his face. "And neither will I."

Eric heard Godric's cool soft voice in his memory, a lesson repeated countless times. _"A vampire is never ruled by his emotions. He dominates them."_

"No more." Eric declared fiercely. "I was Viking when I met Russell Edgington for the first time and Viking I will be again. No quarter. No mercy. No authority or maker to bind me." Fires of destruction flickered in his eyes. He would make the world _burn_.

Lacking the strength to fly, he began a slow, painful jog back to Shreveport. His vengeance would begin with the wolf.

In his grief, Eric never saw the shade of his maker flicker dimly in the ruined clearing, nor heard the sad whisper.

_"And neither fire nor iron told upon them." _


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Thank you for the continued support of this story. I think there was some confusion over the last line of the last chapter. I apologize for that, I hoped the meaning would be clear. "And neither fire nor iron told upon them" was an echo of the quote about berserkers at the start of the chapter. It was Godric acknowledging that Eric was going the berserker route rather than releasing his feelings of rage and vengeance as Godric might have wanted. As is typical of phantoms and oracles, Godric doesn't always come when called or say what is expected. He will appear again, perhaps with more effective counsel. _

_My interest as a writer is exploring characters and their relationships when placed under stress. I like playing "what if?" How do the characters react when it all goes smash? I didn't really want to write a typical "Sookie's in danger, Eric rescues her" tale. Sookie had become almost invincible in the TV series. Her fairy powers are growing stronger, her telepathy warns her of any lurking bad guys, the blood bond brings not one but two vampires rushing to save her. She still gets into trouble but the suspense is gone, at least for me. I wanted to find out what happens if those protections are stripped away or at least don't work as well. How does Sookie cope? I also think Eric in a towering rage, when he thinks he's lost everything is a fascinating character study. What might he do and who might he do it to?_

_True Blood is also an exploration of an interesting group of characters and their relationship to Sookie and her world. I wanted to imagine their reactions to Sookie's apparent death. I apologize for the essay but I wanted to share my vision for where the story is going. I'm sorry if any readers are disappointed or if the climax doesn't come when expected. I hope you'll be patient and choose to make the journey with me. Thank you. _

_Now on with the show._

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"Code 10-80, Hummingbird Road, Stackhouse residence. Fire and rescue units en route, ETA five minutes." The dispatcher's voice crackled over the radio in Jason's squad car.

He'd been pulled over under some trees, drinking a Red Bull between shifts. He jerked alert at the words, doubting at first what he'd heard. Then he threw the car into gear, and tires spitting gravel, sped down the parish road toward Sookie's.

Jason's cell went off and the car was filled with "It's Five O'clock Somewhere", Sheriff Andy Bellefleur's ring tone. He grabbed the phone. "What the hell is going on, Andy?"

"Got a report of an explosion at Sookie's place just a minute ago," Andy said briskly, keeping his concern under wraps for Jason's sake. "Is she at home? Do you know where she is?"

Jason swallowed hard around the knot that suddenly appeared in his throat. "She ain't working today. I saw her in town about three. She said she was going home tonight. Do some laundry, watch TV." His breath hitched for a minute. "Shit, Andy!"

Andy cursed to himself but barked at his deputy. "Keep it together, Jason. EMTs and fire department are on their way. I'll meet you there in a couple of minutes." The sheriff paused then said gruffly. "Do us all a favor and get there alive. Your sister's gonna need you."

Jason hung up and immediately hit his sister's number. It went straight to voice mail. "Sookie, call me back, Goddammit!" he snapped. He tried several more times but with the same result. Lights flashing and sirens screaming, Jason raced through the moonless night.

Andy arrived about thirty seconds before his deputy drove up, gravel flying. Jason leapt out of the car with the engine and lights still running. He dashed straight for the house, which was completely engulfed in flames.

"Shit!" Andy bit out. Then running faster than he had at any time since high school, he barely managed to grab hold of the younger man. Using his heavier weight he tackled Jason down on the hood of the squad car. Jason's anguished face looked hellish in the red glare of the fire and the strobing emergency lights.

"Andy, let me go! I gotta get Sookie! I gotta save my sister!" Jason yelled. Andy bore down heavily but knew he was losing the fight against the athletic Jason. Suddenly Jason was laid flat out. Two arms like logs pinned the deputy down and Andy heard Hoyt Fortinberry's drawl. He remembered Hoyt was a member of the parish volunteer fire department.

"Jason, listen to me!" Hoyt said urgently. "Nothing and nobody can get in there right now. You can't help Sookie by running into that fire." Hoyt gentled his voice. "Trust me, bubba. I'm sorry."

Jason squeezed his eyes shut and breathed heavily in silence for several moments. Hoyt cautiously let go of Jason's wrists and straightened up. Andy eased off and rubbed his aching back, his attention drawn to a collapsing wall where the kitchen once stood. Two fire trucks, all that the parish boasted, rained water from several hoses on the conflagration with little discernible effect. An ambulance waited over to the side but Andy knew it was empty.

Jason sat up and got to his feet, his eyes never wavering from the flames. "Did they find any-anything?" he asked hesitantly.

Hoyt, his face smudged with black, answered. "They didn't find nothing. Not yet." He sighed. "Looks like the propane tank might have gone up."

"Shit." Jason said softly. He pulled his cell phone out and tried Sookie again. He hung up when he heard her cheerful message on the voice mail once more, murmuring, "Sook, where are you, girl?"

He turned to Hoyt. "Was there anyone here when you got here? Who made the 911 call?"

Hoyt wiped his hand over his face, smearing oily soot across his forehead. "There was nobody here. Andy said one of Vampire Bill's security guards heard the explosion out doing his rounds and called it in."

Jason looked at Andy who nodded. "Dispatch got calls from people coupla miles away who heard it, too." He watched Jason closely and saw him begin to fixate on the fire again, his body tensing. "Maybe you oughta check where else Sookie might be? Tara's or Sam's, or Vampire Bill's?"

"Yeah, yeah, I shoulda thought about that." Jason agreed quickly, pulling out his phone again. "She probably wasn't even here."

Andy very carefully didn't look over to where the skeletal remains of Sookie's car could be seen amongst the flames.

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Bill strode purposefully into his office, and then stopped, looking around the room as if he'd never seen it before. He kept doing that. Moving forward, but only getting so far before the horrible reality set in once more.

He was still King. He had responsibilities that required his attention, even while grief and rage clawed at his insides like rabid demons. He wanted to rend and tear, to bathe in the blood of his enemies. He would find those behind Sookie's murder, he vowed, and flay them alive. But he had duties to fulfill first.

After the explosion, he'd realized he couldn't afford to have vampires publicly linked to Sookie's death-again. Plus he had casualties among his own staff, though fortunately few. Connie was unconscious from the concussion blast; one guard appeared to have a burst eardrum and another had a broken ankle. Bill sent them off with two uninjured men to a private clinic that provided excellent care with no questions asked. Bill quickly ordered a remaining guard to call 911 to report the explosion but to deny any other knowledge of the event.

Bill knew Eric was gone as soon as he found his feet after the blast. Bill believed his former Sheriff was a problem that would have to be dealt with sooner rather than later. An Eric that recognized no authority, maddened by grief and revenge, would be even more dangerous than one controlled by the necromancer.

This knowledge had brought Bill into his office. He sat in his chair and stared into space for a long moment before he picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Pam," Bill said evenly when she answered. "This is your King. I want you to listen to me very carefully." Without expression, Bill explained the events of Sookie's death, including the fact that he believed magic had been involved. The bodies bursting into flame had clearly been the work of a spell of some kind. "Sheriff Northman has renounced his fealty to me as King and declared he would no longer serve as Sheriff. He swore he will not recognize the AVL or the Authority itself."

Pam started to speak. "Silence!" Bill thundered. "Eric Northman is now an outlaw in Louisiana. He's been exiled on pain of the true death. Anyone who aides or shelters him will be punished."

"Is that understood, Pam?" Bill finished harshly.

There was a long pause, and then Pam said flatly, "Russell Edgington is back."

"What?" Bill's mind went blank.

Pam tersely outlined what Alcide reported to Eric and the connection they'd made between Anton Sejour and SJR Properties.

"Have you found Sejour yet?" Bill was reeling. He'd never expected this. _This was Eric's fault. All of it. Russell Edgington would meet his final death this time, no matter what._

"No," she replied. "It's like he never existed."

"Where's Alcide now?" Bill wondered. "His father must know more about who bought the property."

"The wolf is still here, under guard. Eric didn't want him to leave." Pam sounded distracted.

"Keep him there. I'm on my way to Fangtasia," Bill ordered. "I want to talk to him myself."

He heard what sounded like wood splintering in the distance. "Pam?"

"Eric's here," she said and the line went dead.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: The reviews I've received expressing support for the story make me very happy. My muse is on fire, as well, so the chapters should keep arriving on a regular basis. I've got the ending outlined and I'm excited about it. I hope you all will be, too. Most of all, I just want everyone to enjoy the story and have fun with it. Thank you all so much._

_As always, I own nothing. I'm just privileged to play in the world of CH and AB. Lady Anne, thank you again for being the best beta ever!_

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Despite being cramped, uncomfortable and downright terrified, Sookie had managed to fall asleep in her mobile prison. She woke up when the car stopped and she heard the engine turned off. The driver's door slammed. Sookie's heartbeat accelerated painfully as she waited for the inevitable click and the trunk popped open.

She gazed up into the pale face of her captor. His black eyes glittered back at her in the reflected glare of scattered street lights indicating a commercial parking lot. Sejour leaned down and spoke in a low voice. "Where we are, nobody can hear you, so don't bother to make a scene. Even if we do encounter someone, I will simply kill them, right in front of you. They will be dead and you will still be my prisoner." His voice was cool and pleasant as a weather announcer, but utterly terrifying. "Do you understand? Nod yes."

Sookie nodded slowly, her nostrils flaring as she struggled to drag in enough air to dispel the black spots forming in front of her eyes. Sejour seemed satisfied and bent to lift her into his arms. Her blanket fell away and the chill air attacked her bare skin like tiny frosty knives. A small mercy; Sejour blurred into one of several low lying buildings grouped together in a sort of complex. Sookie barely had time to register her surroundings but did notice plentiful security lighting and a high wire fence as far as she could see.

Then they were at the door and Sejour rapidly entered a complex code on a keypad to gain entrance. They passed inside. He carried her down a corridor that reminded Sookie of a hospital. There were hand railings attached to the walls on either side. There appeared to be a small nurse's station, currently empty. The hall was long but Sookie counted just four doors.

It was very quiet. Sookie didn't see or hear signs of any other patients and staff. Sejour continued to the last door on the left, keyed in another code and entered the room. Or rooms, Sookie amended. It was bigger than she expected. Furnished like a high-end hotel suite but with a large hospital bed at one end, tasteful low lighting turned on as they came in. There were no windows.

Sejour carried his prisoner to the bed and laid her down gently. He rolled Sookie to her side and taking a knife from his pocket, sliced the tape from her hands and feet. He turned back to close the door, coding the lock.

Sitting up slowly, Sookie brought her cramped arms in front of her and gingerly peeled the tape off her mouth. Damn, it hurt! Despite herself, she moaned a little at that and other aches and pains making themselves known. She kept an eye on Sejour but he didn't seem to object to her removing the tape. He crossed to a finely carved highboy, opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of clothing. He came back to Sookie and tossed her the garment.

"Put this on," he ordered. "The bathroom is through there." He indicated an open door. "There's no way out but you are not to close the door. You have ten minutes to take a shower and get back out here." Sejour gestured, "Towels and toiletries are in the closet inside."

Sookie stared warily at the vampire, prepared for him to leap on her at any moment. When he showed no signs of doing so, she examined what he had given her a moment before. The material felt like finest quality Egyptian cotton but she identified it as a typical tie-back hospital gown.

"I'm not putting this on while you're looking at me," she insisted, trying to reclaim what little personal control she could.

Sejour shook his head. "Eight minutes, Miss Stackhouse. Get up; take your shower and come back dressed in that gown. Or I could strap you to the bed. You can use a bedpan and I'll wash you myself." The vampire openly leered at her for the first time, fangs bared. "Your choice."

Cold gripped Sookie's insides. She didn't doubt him. "What are you going to do to me?"

Sejour tsked, an odd sound coming from a vampire. "You're wasting time. Do as you are told, or you'll find out just how long that list really is."

Sookie decided she needed to pick her battles, the most important being the battle to survive this ordeal. Besides, she was desperate for a pee and a hot shower. She draped the gown around her and darted into the bathroom. She automatically started to close the door but stopped and pushed it back open when Sejour's foot suddenly appeared in the way.

"Six minutes," he sounded slightly amused. "I hope you're fast."

The shower was large enough for two or three people with a molded bench and grab bar proclaiming its handicapped accessibility. Sookie quickly located the expensive soaps and shampoos, stepped in and treated herself to four and half minutes of hot, wet bliss. With thirty seconds to spare, she exited the bathroom wrapped in the hospital gown and a white fluffy robe she found on a hook inside. Shove in slippers had been set out for her in front of the door. She'd even discovered a brush and ran it through her wet hair as she watched to see what her captor would do next.

At a claw-footed cherry wood table, Sejour had set a single place with a roast beef sandwich, fruit and a glass of milk. He took a carafe of what appeared to be real blood from a tray on the sideboard and turned to her. "Right on time, Miss Stackhouse. Please sit down and eat. You need to keep up your strength."

Sookie remembered she hadn't eaten since noon and she was starving. Being mentally tortured and physically terrified really built up an appetite. As she sat down in a carved, cushioned chair, Sejour poured the blood into two cut crystal goblets and brought them to the table.

Sookie took a drink of milk. Time to start gathering intelligence. "Where are we?" she asked cautiously.

"Welcome to Safe Harbor Long Term Care Facility," Sejour replied. "It's amazing how much money there is to be made providing care to the rich, powerful and famous who need to be discreetly treated and hidden away. There are brain damaged NFL players, failed rehab celebrities, politicians and dictators with Alzheimer's, and so on," he finished dryly. "The medical care is first rate, privacy is guaranteed and security is very, very tight. No unauthorized party can get in, and no mentally distressed patients can get out."

"You own this place?" Sookie asked, surprised. Vampires tended to own businesses that had a nighttime clientele: bars, convenience stores, all night cleaners, etc. She'd never thought of a nursing home being an attractive investment for a vampire. But it made a twisted kind of sense; especially as a place where death was natural and expected, and not always well investigated.

"It is one of many enterprises I have acquired and managed on behalf of my maker, both here and abroad." Sejour said absently, as if listening for something.

"And very well he has done, too," an all-too-familiar voice came from behind Sookie. "Good evening, Miss Stackhouse," Russell Edgington drawled.

His smug tone scissored into Sookie's brain and threw her fight or flight response into overdrive. She jumped out of her chair and whirled to face the former King of Mississippi. She summoned all the energy she possessed and directed it at Russell. Light flickered and sparked from her fingers, reaching the vampire but knocking him back only a few steps.

Fangs bared, Russell instantly had his hands around Sookie's throat, twisting her neck to the breaking point. Sookie's vision tunneled down to tiny pinpricks. She clawed at Russell's iron grip, as Sejour watched impassively. She believed she was going to die.

"I thought you took care of her little fairy light trick." Maintaining his hold on Sookie, Russell raised an eyebrow at his progeny, who shrugged.

"The controls I imposed will have to be renewed periodically. The _Loa _are fighting forces which are alien to them. Her powers aren't gone, simply suppressed," Sejour explained. "I will strengthen the restraints tonight before I go to ground."

"Very well." Russell dismissed the topic, dropping Sookie to the floor where she lay gasping for breath. He seated himself at the table as if nothing had happened, picking up his goblet of blood. "Come, join us, Miss Stackhouse." He might have been inviting her to tea. "Let us begin again. Violence is so upsetting to the digestion."

Sejour stood over the blond and after a moment, held out his hand to her. Tears streaming down her face and still drinking in large gulps of air, Sookie allowed herself to be helped up and seated in her chair once more. She struggled to compose herself. She prayed God would give her courage and strength to deal with Russell Edgington. She would need it all.

Sookie noticed that while the former King no longer looked crispy-fried as he had the last time she'd seen him, he didn't look fully restored to his former dapper state, either. His color was extremely pale; his cheeks were sunken, almost skeletal. His fangs had grown back, she noticed. He wore a modern, expensively tailored dark blue business suit. But while his eyes were just as bright, the madness in them burned hotter than ever before. Sookie shivered.

Russell passed her a pristine white handkerchief to wipe her face, still masquerading as the perfect Southern gentleman. "Please listen to me very carefully, my dear. Together, I believe we will do great things." He gave a broad, delighted smile. "Great things, indeed."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Thank you for the continued support of this story. It has been beyond my wildest expectations. Your encouraging reviews have been the fuel for my fire! This is Pam's chapter and I wanted to do her justice. She's one of my favorite characters but I find her tricky to write. I hope she comes off as true to herself because she could really mess me up... Enjoy!_

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Pam had no desire to sit in Eric's office babysitting a smelly and irritable wolf. After Eric took off to rescue his little fairy princess again, Pam went inside the club to make calls to Eric's Area 5 operatives to put them on the search for Anton Sejour. She trusted Eric to inform King Bill in his own time. She rarely questioned her maker but she wished he'd let Russell Edgington fry in the sun. It would have been so much less trouble.

After an hour or so overseeing the nightly vermin migration, she reluctantly checked to see that Alcide and Lucy hadn't killed each other yet. Not that she would have cared if Lucy had taken a nibble or two.

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" Alcide growled when Pam poked her head around the door. He was sitting sullenly in Eric's chair behind the desk, an insult that Pam normally wouldn't have let pass. But it would mean spending even more time in the wolf's presence. Pam nodded to Lucy, who leaned against the wall with a bored look on her pale face.

"As long as Eric wants you here," Pam answered, stepping into the office. The wolf was jumpy. It might be fun to poke it with a stick. "So sit. Stay. Roll over if you really want to." Her lips curled in cold amusement. Lucy, who felt she'd taken the brunt of Alcide's bad temper this evening with amazing patience, grinned.

"Well, I want to see him!" Alcide demanded. "I need to get back to my own office."

"Eric left and I don't know when he'll be back," Pam drawled. "You'll just have to wait." It was amusing to watch Alcide struggle with his alpha male tendencies even as he knew he was not a match against two vampires.

"You can't just keep me here," Alcide snapped finally. "Where the hell did Eric go?"

Really, why did every prisoner feel the need to deny the obvious? Pam prided herself she would never be so cliche, and decided to address only the latter question. This was getting boring. "He went to Sookie's. He felt she was in trouble. What else is new?"

Alcide leapt out of the chair, sending it tumbling backwards with a loud clatter. Lucy charged forward to trap Alcide behind the desk. Pam easily blocked Alcide from the other side. Pam examined her nails. She'd be damned if she would break one on this furry blood bag. Lucy could do it.

"Just give me an excuse," Lucy hissed, fangs out. "I have had enough of your complaints tonight."

"If Sookie is in danger, I've got to help her," Alcide all but howled his frustration. "You have to let me go!"

"That fairy barmaid has got all the help she needs," Pam sighed. Captain Obvious strikes again. "If Eric can't handle it, she's dead anyway."

"You cold-hearted bitch," Alcide rumbled. "I oughta rip your throat out."

"I'd like to see you try," Pam trilled a laugh more at home at a PTA meeting than in a vampire club. "Now, you need to sit there like a good boy and you may live to chase cars again another day."

Believing he would have a better chance against the smaller vampire if Pam were gone, Alcide righted the office chair and made a show of sitting down calmly. His gaze though, promised snarling, biting death for the tall blond at his earliest opportunity.

"What a good dog," Pam crooned. She considered petting his head for good measure but her manicure was less than 2 hours old.

Pity.

Her personal cell phone rang. She glanced at the number. _Bill Compton_.

Shit.

She exchanged a significant look with Lucy. _Keep the wolf here, no matter what. _

Then she stepped out of the office, closing the door and moving further down the hall for privacy. She hit the answer button. She heard Bill announce he was King and that she had to listen. He always had to remind everyone he was King Bill.

_Insecure, much?_

Pam was shocked, however, by his revelation of Sookie's death, the explosion and the involvement of magic. Her first thought was that Eric would finally be free of his obsession for Sookie. Pam thought Sookie had made him weak. Now Eric could be himself once again.

Then Bill continued, telling Pam that Eric had renounced his fealty to the King and the Authority; that he was now an outlaw. Bewildered, she barely heard him. Pam could understand Eric denouncing Bill Compton. She'd expected it for months. But for Eric to do it in such a way as to lose all his property and end up in exile didn't make sense. She would definitely have some questions for her maker.

Bill kept pontificating but Pam knew one sure way to shut him up.

"Russell Edgington is back," Pam said bluntly. She was pleased by the shocked silence on the other end of the line. She explained the news the wolf had brought and the connection made to Sejour but admitted there had been no sign of the vampire yet.

Pam became aware of some sort of commotion out in the bar area. She absently acknowledged Bill's order to keep the wolf at Fangtasia. She heard a roar that was quite familiar.

"Eric's here," she said briefly and ended the call.

Now she would have some answers. The roaring continued and she heard the screams of the vermin as they headed for the exits. It wasn't like Eric to chase off paying customers. Pam felt the first pangs of worry. As she passed the office door, she opened it quickly.

"Keep this door locked," she ordered Lucy who'd come to attention at Pam's entrance. "Oh, and keep the wolf alive, by order of the King," Pam added. Somehow it seemed like a good idea.

Lucy nodded, her eyes wide. Alcide stood and said something but Pam was already gone.

Pam followed the piercing sound of Ginger's screams to find Eric standing over the cowering barmaid, fangs bared. Pam would have gone to her maker to welcome him back but something made her hesitate.

"Ginger, be quiet!" Pam snapped. "Go home. Lock the door when you leave. Go now!"

The bleached blond skittered back from Eric and dashed out the main entrance, gasping and whimpering the whole way. Someday, Pam knew, she would decide the girl was just too irritating to live. She looked at Eric and flinched. She'd seen him cold, angry, vengeful; she'd seen him laugh in a blood lust with fangs dripping the entrails of his enemies. But she had never seen in him such naked pain. His eyes blazed with rage but his anguish seared into the link they shared. She felt acutely uncomfortable and a little frightened. She tried not to show it.

"It's too bad about Sookie," Pam thought she managed to sound almost humanly sympathetic. "But now you can focus on bringing Russell down, without any distractions this time. Although I would like you to explain why you didn't just kill that pompous little dork rather than let him declare you an outlaw and strip you of your property. He's such a joke-"

Pam never saw the blow coming. Eric backhanded her across the cheek with all his might. She flew up and crashed into the wall behind the bar, shattering glasses and liquor bottles. Pam sprang up, fangs bared, jaw probably cracked, hissing with anger and hurt. The few times Eric had physically disciplined her, he'd never struck her in the face. He'd said that was humiliation, not discipline and that he would never use it as a means of controlling her.

"What the fuck was that for, Eric?" Pam cried. "I'm not the enemy here! I'm on your side!"

"You never cared whether Sookie lived or died," Eric glared at her. "You would have killed her if you could, that night at Moon Goddess."

"We were there to kill the Goddamn witches! Screw the collateral damage!" Pam retorted, wiping the blood from her face. "But we settled all that. I groveled and you didn't talk to me for two weeks but in the end you said we were good."

"Sookie's gone. Russell will die. Nothing else matters. Stay out of my way if you don't want to get hurt." Eric's tone was deadly. "I'm here for the wolf."

"To do what?" Pam tried to reason with her maker. "Eric, if we need to get out of here, let's do it. I'll come with you. We've both got accounts the King doesn't know anything about. We can start over somewhere else." Her voice grew desperate as Eric remained unmoved. "Bill's going to be here soon and you know he won't come without backup, not now. We can go after Russell if you want, but let's just go. Any other monarch will welcome you with open arms. Bill's got zero credibility outside Louisiana."

Pam started toward him but stopped when Eric growled and bared his fangs at her. Barely leashed violence rolled off him in waves. "There is no starting over. From this point on, there is only Russell's true death or mine. Stay or go, it doesn't matter to me." Eric looked right through her and Pam felt it like a knife in her gut.

She wouldn't let him go. Not like this. "Snap out of it, Eric! Do you have a death wish now? Your true love is gone so you want to throw yourself on her funeral pyre? You think you're on another thousand year quest for vengence, is that it? Well there's nothing noble or grand about this; they're not going to write a fucking saga about it and sing it around the campfire! The only thing epic is your own self pity." Pam was screaming now. "You want Russell Edgington dead, you go after him with everything you've got! Bill, the AVL, the FBI and Homeland Security. They all want him dead, too! You don't renounce your own King, get exiled before you can gather information and strip yourself of all your financial resources!" Pam sank into a chair. "God, Eric. When did you get to be so stupid?" She put her face in her hands, unutterably tired.

There was silence for several moments and then she knew she was alone. Pam jumped up. She heard the door to the office splinter amidst screams and howls.

_Shit._


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Thank you as always for the interest in the story. There will be two chapters this time, with a twist at the end of the second. The players are almost all in their places and Russell's plans will be revealed very soon. So let's join our story already in progress. Enjoy!_

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Jason hurried through the cemetary to Bill Compton's house. He'd already checked with Sam and Tara and neither had seen Sookie tonight. Both her friends immediately offered to come to Sookie's but Jason knew there was nothing to be done there. He asked them to keep checking with friends and neighbors to see if there was any sign of Sookie around town. No luck so far.

Bill's was the last place Jason had to look. Compton wasn't answering his phone. Jason knew Bill was now King of the Louisiana vampires but to Jason he just looked like a rich businessman. Well, a vampire businessman. The house had gotten an extreme makeover and the guy had plenty of security. Still, Jason thought a king meant a crown, a robe and maybe a horse. On the other hand, Bill did have a dungeon.

Jason had a feeling he was thinking about Bill because he didn't want to think about Sookie. And what may have happened to her.

_No._

He'd just gotten her back. From Fairyland or wherever the hell she'd been. She couldn't be gone.

He fingered the pocketwatch his Grandaddy had left for him. He always carried it now. If not for that watch, he wouldn't have believed Sookie's story of fairy time travel. His sister, a frickin' fairy? Hard to get his head around that one. At least he wasn't a Were-panther. That would have made for a hell of a family tree.

His family. All of them were here in this cemetary. Momma and Daddy; Gran; Grandaddy Earl, too, according to Sookie. Jason had refused to hold a funeral or put a headstone up for Sookie last year, even after he concluded she must be dead and sold her house. Those things had been too final; they meant he was completely and finally alone. He couldn't bear it.

Tonight he'd heard the fire chief tell Andy that the fire burned so hot they might have a hard time finding human remains. But Jason refused to believe Sookie was dead. He'd given up on her once and she'd come back. He'd never give up on her again.

He reached the perimeter of Compton's property. Only Bill had a "perimeter" around these parts. The security guards stopped Jason and radio'd ahead for permission to pass him through. Jason saw the guard he'd shot the day he stopped Jessica walking into the sun. From the glare the guy was giving him, Jason figured the recognition was mutual.

Jason got the ok to enter and he went up the front steps where another guard let him in. Security was heavy tonight. He went into Bill's office. The vampire stood beside his desk putting on a black leather jacket. "Jason, I heard about the explosion at Sookie's. I'm sorry, but I only have a few minutes, so-" Bill began.

Bill's seemingly casual dismissal of the fire ignited Jason's worry and frustration into a blistering rage. Somehow he was sure Bill knew what happened to Sookie. In an instant, his gun was in his hand. It wasn't his service revolver. It was a modified pistol designed to shoot wooden bullets with a silver core. He'd made a special requisition for it from the New Orleans PD Vampire Squad after Sookie disappeared last year and he'd switched it out with his regular gun before he came over tonight. He hadn't been sure why at the time. Now he was.

"Where the fuck is my sister?" Jason yelled, aiming for Bill's dead heart. "Nobody has seen her and that leaves you or the tall guy, Eric. Y'all would have known if she was in trouble, so what the hell happened to her? She sure as shit didn't go off to that fairy place again, not after last time." Jason cocked the pistol. "Tell me, goddammit!"

Bill put up both hands in a placating gesture. "Jason, just listen a minute-" Bill stopped as a figure familiar to them both ran in through the office doors.

"Bill, there's fire engines and an ambulance at Sookie's! You gotta get over there!" Jessica came to a sudden halt as she took in the picture in front of her. "Jason, what are you doing?"

With the deputy's attention distracted by Jessica, Bill blurred over to Jason and knocked the gun violently out of his hand. Jason howled with pain, his wrist broken. The pistol skittered across the floor to land under the desk. Bill grabbed the injured wrist and forced Jason to the ground, fangs bared. Jessica screamed for Bill to stop.

"Don't hurt him anymore! Bill, please!" Jessica knelt by Jason's side. Bill released the younger man and Jessica helped him to a chair, hovering over him protectively.

Jason, pale with pain, breathed heavily and cradled his wrist. He looked up at Jessica and then at Bill. "Tell me she ain't dead," he begged. "Please."

Bill was quiet for a moment and suddenly he looked very old. "Sookie was killed tonight, Jason. I'm sorry." The vampire sighed, despite not needing to breathe. "Eric and I were there but we weren't able to get to her in time. The killer rigged the explosion somehow."

"But you got the son of a bitch that done it, right?" Jason growled, his eyes hot with rage and bright with unshed tears. "You owed her that, at least."

"There was some sort of magic involved. After Sookie...died, the killer and she burst into flames. The house didn't explode until after that. There was nothing we could do." Bill fell silent.

"So who the fuck did it?" Jason insisted. "How did she die? Tell me what happened!"

Bill gazed at Sookie's brother shrewdly. "Jason, I swear to you that those behind Sookie's death will pay with their lives. They will die slowly and in great pain. But this is vampire business and I cannot tell you anymore than I already have. It's for your own safety. Sookie would never forgive me if I let harm come to you as well." Bill shook his head. "You are going to have to trust me to make sure Sookie gets justice."

"Why should I trust you?" Jason snarled. "Until she met you vampires, she'd never even been to the hospital. Her life may have been boring but at least she was _safe!_" Jason jumped to his feet, his broken wrist forgotten. "You and Eric, you say you loved her. But you risked her life over and over for your 'vampire business'. She did it because she really did love you and now she's dead!"

Jessica put a hand on his arm but Jason shook her off. "For all I know, you drained her dry and set the explosion to cover your own ass!" Jason accused Bill. "Don't tell me to trust you! I'll find out who killed her and when I do, he's going to burn!"

Bill had been pushed far enough on this, one of the worst nights of his long life. "You're such a selfish, irresponsible child that Sookie was as much a mother to you as a sister! You never put her needs, or the needs of anyone else before your own. You know nothing of committment or faithfulness, much less honor," Bill added contemptuously. "You're a sex-addicted boy, not a man!"

With a cry of rage, Jason charged the vampire. Bill hissed and his fangs dropped but Jessica intervened. She grabbed Jason's shoulders in an iron grip and spun him to face her. She shook him. "Jason, look at me!" Jason tried to get around her to her maker but Jessica held him fast. "Look at me!" She shook him harder. Bill stepped back to allow his progeny do what was required.

Jason finally met her bewitchingly blue eyes. Eyes that haunted his nights and days. He hadn't seen her since their rendezvous on Halloween. If possible, she was even more beautiful. He knew what she intended. "Don't, Jess," he said quietly. "If you do, I'll never forgive you. Even if I don't remember, I'll know about this somehow."

"Yes," Jessica whispered, moving her hands to his face and drawing him close enough to kiss. "But I'm saving your life."

"With a lie," Jason murmured. "It's all y'all do. Lies. And you call it love." With a sigh like a man resigned to his fate, he touched her lips with his own. For a long, lingering moment he explored heaven in this extraordinary creature's arms. Then she drew back and cast him down to earth.

He took a deep breath and would have spoken but Jessica put a finger up to his mouth. She said in a voice that was gentle but utterly persuasive, "Jason, you need to trust Bill. He'll find out who hurt Sookie. He'll take care of everything and bring her killer to justice. You're going to go home and take care of her arrangements. It's what she would want."

Bill said something in a voice too low for humans to hear. Jessica was surprised but knew Bill must have his reasons. She told Jason, "You will stay away from Eric Northman and Fangtasia. He's dangerous and not to be trusted." Jessica paused a moment and added. "Sit here for just a minute and then I'll take you home and make your wrist all better." Jason nodded obediently and sat down in the wing chair with his eyes closed. He looked peaceful but absolutely exhausted.

Jessica went to stand by her maker. They both faced Jason. Jessica spoke first, still in the inaudible vampire tones. "I'm so sorry about Sookie, Bill. I know you love her." She looked at Bill whose expression had turned hard and closed. Condolences were the last thing on his mind. "Who did it? You know, don't you." It was a statement; she was certain he did.

"I know who's behind it, at least." Bill admitted bitterly. "Jessica, you need to know. Russell Edgington is back." Bill acknowledged her gasp with a nod. "Killing Sookie is his revenge for what Eric did to him. But Russell doesn't think small. He will be after all of us. You need to be very careful. You will stay away from Eric and Fangtasia as well." Bill saw the flash of rebellion in his progeny's eyes. "That is a command! From your maker and your King."

Bill laid a hand on her shoulder which was stiff with resentment. "I know there are...things going on in your life that we need to talk about. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you, Jess. Yet again, I don't have time now." Jessica gave the uncaring shrug that is the universal teenage signal for "it matters a lot but I'm not going to let you know it." Bill was reminded again just how young she still was, as a human and even more so as a vampire. "But we _will_ talk. And soon," he promised.

To change the subject, Jessica gestured to Jason. "I'm going to take him home. Make sure he's ok." Bill bent down quickly and then placed something heavy in Jessica's hand. It was Jason's gun. Jessica felt its weight like an accusation. What would she have done if Jason_ had _shot Bill? She prayed she would never have to choose between them.

"You could have glamoured him completely, make him think Sookie died in the explosion and vampires weren't involved at all. It might have been better." Bill observed.

Jessica shook her head. "That wouldn't be fair. He has a right to know this much at least. I won't tell him about Russell Edgington, I promise."

"It's for his own safety. You know that." Bill warned.

She nodded. "I know." Jessica hesitantly moved into Bill's arms and he hugged her for the first time in weeks. It felt right to both of them. "I'll be careful," she said. "Don't worry about me. Just go get that motherfucker and rip off his goddamn face!" Bill felt a small lightening of the black gloom that had consumed him since seeing Sookie die on her front porch.

Eric had been right about one thing. Being a maker _was _rewarding.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Read and enjoy a bonus chapter. More to come soon. _

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Pam raced down the hall to Eric's office. The door lay in scattered pieces. She saw Lucy standing between Eric and Alcide who was behind the desk. Pam groaned. This would not end well.

"I said, give me the wolf," Eric growled. Even Pam's knees wanted to wilt at the deadliness of his tone but Lucy either didn't realize her danger or had a spine made of pure steel, Pam thought.

"Sheriff, with all due respect, the King is on his way and wants the werewolf kept alive for questioning," Lucy insisted, her short brown curls bouncing as she nodded her head for emphasis.

"I am no longer your Sheriff and _King Bill's _wishesdon't matter to me in the slightest." Eric deliberately moved very close to the shorter vampire, towering over her in menace. "Move. Now."

"Eric, don't," Pam said, stepping into the office.

"Stay out of this, Pam." Eric ordered. "Herveaux, come here."

"Why should I?" Alcide snarled. "Where have you been? And where's Sookie? If anything's happened to her, I'll-"

"Sookie's dead, you fucking dog!" Eric howled and launched himself at Alcide. Lucy tried to grab Eric's arm but he threw her against the line of metal shelves as if she weighed nothing. She hit the wall and went down in a resounding crash. Pam went to check on the young vampire. Alcide leapt aside to avoid Eric's assault but the vampire caught him around the waist and they fell together onto the desk, snarling and punching. The wooden desk couldn't take the double weight of the two large men and splintered apart. Alcide and Eric rolled off it, the Were trying to keep Eric's fangs from his neck.

Pam whispered urgently to Lucy to keep down and stay out of the fray, but Lucy flung herself onto Eric's back and tried to pull him away from the wolf. She might as well have tried to budge a locomotive. Eric tolerated the younger vampire for several seconds as he was making progress in pinning Alcide. Then Alcide changed into wolf form and Eric lost momentarily lost his hold. The wolf scrabbled away. Eric twisted and rolled over hard onto Lucy on his back, trying to dislodge her while grabbing for the Were. Eric felt Lucy's grip loosen and he surged up to catch Alcide who made a huge leap across the room, past Pam and out into the hall.

About to chase his prey, Eric paused when he heard Pam's wail.

"Lucy, no!" Pam cried. Eric turned and saw Pam kneeling next to the desk that had broken apart during the struggle. Lucy had been impaled on a long splinter when Eric rolled onto his back to get rid of her. The brunette's face and body was already collapsing in on itself, dissolving into shreds of gory tissue.

"She was just trying to do what we told her, Eric!" Pam seldom wept but a crimson tear began to snake down her pale cheek. "Trying to keep that fucking Were here and alive for you."

Pam searched her maker's face but it was closed and hard. "She owed me fealty and was under my protection," Eric said remotely. "I regret that she met her final death at my hands."

The maker that Pam loved and respected would have been greatly disturbed at being responsible for the demise of a loyal vampire. She contrasted his cold response to his actions over Sookie, a mere human. A human, moreover, who in Pam's opinion had been extremely ungrateful for Eric's care of her-even disloyal for rejecting first Eric's offer of protection and then his declaration of love. Pam closed her eyes and felt something inside her break a little. She didn't think Eric and she could ever be the same again.

While Pam knelt over Lucy's remains, she heard Eric start to say something. There was a pause and then he spoke again, "Pam, I..."

She didn't look up.

Silence fell and Pam tried not to think of what was ending. Then she heard, "Don't try to find me."

And her maker was gone.

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Bill arrived with heavy back up, anticipating he might encounter Eric. He saw the destruction in the bar area, and followed by several guards, cautiously made his way into the employee-only area. He found Pam kneeling beside what were clearly the bloody remains of a vampire. He saw and heard nobody else. For a wild moment Bill thought Pam might have killed Eric and wondered what he would do about that. Then he realized it could never happen and asked, "Who?"

"Lucy Devlin. She was new," said Pam dully.

"I remember when Eric told me he'd granted her permission to reside in his area. I hadn't had the chance to meet her yet." Bill directed his guards to secure the rest of the club and entered the office to stand beside Pam. "She came from England after her maker was killed by Drainers there last year," he pulled the information from a corner of his memory. "How did she meet her true death?"

"She...it was an accident. Eric and Alcide got in a fight and Lucy was caught in the middle." Whatever passed between Eric and herself, Pam still protected her maker. "The wolf is gone and Eric went after him," she anticipated Bill's next question.

Bill thought there was more to the story but decided to let that go for the moment. "Did Eric want to kill Alcide or question him?"

"Does it matter?" Pam sighed and stood up.

"It makes the difference in whether he starts the first vampire-were war in Louisiana in 120 years." Bill said sharply.

"We will win easily," Pam dismissed the notion.

"I don't want another war!" Bill growled. "We may need every ally we can get, and soon. Russell Edgington's dream was to unite all the supernaturals against the humans. He's already demonstrated tonight that he has Weres and magic in his service. The supernatural world will have to work together to defeat Russell."

A mixed-species alliance simply wasn't in Pam's world-view and she found it deeply distasteful. But she didn't have a better idea-at the moment.

Bill called to one of his guards and ordered him to take his squad to secure Jackson Herveaux immediately and take him to a safe location. They were not to harm Jackson or Alcide, unless absolutely necessary.

Once he set that in motion, he turned back to Pam. "I will call all the Sheriffs together to discuss our strategy against Edgington. I'm now down two sheriffs, a serious liability in this crisis," Bill advised.

"Not my problem," Pam bit out, still mostly preoccupied with her own thoughts.

Bill kept a tight rein on his temper. Despite Pam's attitude he believed his plan was the right one. "Have you thought about what you will do now?" he asked. "Will you follow Eric into exile?"

Pam hadn't expected such a pointed question though perhaps she should have.

"I will guarantee you safe passage out of the state," Bill offered when she didn't speak. "If that's what you decide." He watched Pam closely.

"Eric doesn't want me," Pam stated flatly. "He told me to stay away."

Bill gave her one last long appraisal. "Then I could use you. I offer you Eric's place as Sheriff of Area 5."

Pam's eyes flew to Bill's in shock, quickly followed by speculation. "Why me? Don't you doubt my loyalty? I've made no secret of my opinions."

"You have only directly disobeyed me where it concerned Eric's safety. If I had shown Eric the true death for his oath-breaking, I'm sure you would have taken a stake to me by now." Bill acknowledged wryly. "Eric may not want to admit it but he won't be able to bring Russell down alone. By becoming Sheriff you will be in a position to help him. Besides, you know his assets and his contacts far better than I do. I'll take every advantage I can get right now. I think as long as you are not required to move against Eric himself, you will be loyal once you give your word."

Pam paused for a long time, surprised to find she agreed with almost everything Bill had said. "Swear you will never order me to harm Eric in any way," she insisted.

Bill sighed in exasperation. Trust Pam to require that he swear an oath to her before she swore fealty to him. "I reserve the right to defend myself and my kingdom against any direct attack by Eric. If you betray me after this even he will not be able to save you. But yes, I swear I will not command you to act against him. In all else I expect your loyalty and your obedience."

This was it. Pam felt like she stood on the edge of a cliff. Like all Bill's underlings she'd sworn fealty to him when he became King. But this was different. She would be Bill's own vassal; there would be no Eric to stand between them. She couldn't sit around and make snarky comments about Bill in the background; she would have to discipline anyone who did. But, she reminded herself, she was doing this for Eric-to increase his chances of survival against Russell Edgington. She would put up with a lot for the opportunity to do that.

"Okay, Sire." Pam couldn't quite keep the sarcastic inflection out of her voice. She promised herself she'd work on it. "Let's get this over with." She thought of the ritual Bill would follow and said, "There's no way I'm kneeling in this dress."

"Pam," the edge in Bill's voice warned her there was a limit to his patience. But when he looked at the tight shiny leather sheath she wore, he conceded her point. "Fine. Stand."

"Pamela Swynford De Beaufort," Bill intoned. "As King of Lousiana and with the power vested in me by the one true Vampire Authority, I bestow upon you the office of Sheriff of Area Five with all the rights, privileges, obligations and responsibilities attached thereto."

Pam took a deep breath and recited the ancient words. "Here do I swear fealty and service to King William Compton, in peace or war, from this hour until my lord release me, or the true death take me." She folded her hands together and Bill took both of hers between his.

He continued, "I shall not forget it nor fail to reward that which is given; fealty with love; valor with honor; disloyalty with vengeance."

Pam completed the ritual with words she never thought she'd say to this vampire. "I am yours to command."

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After hours of searching, Eric had to admit he'd lost track of the wolf. The delay caused by Lucy's death had given the Were enough time to get out of the club, change back to human form and take off in his truck.

Eric, by now healed enough to take flight, had searched along the routes leading to Alcide's home and office. Even though traffic was light at this time of night, Eric saw no sign of the werewolf's vehicle. He checked but the house and office were locked and deserted.

Dawn was fast approaching. A new day would begin. A day without Sookie in it. He would never wake to another sunset with the reassuring hum of her presence in the bond to greet him. Eric blocked these thoughts with an effort. If he survived his confrontation with Russell, he would face an eternity without her. If he didn't prevail, he would be spared such torment.

Eric had been infuriated by Pam's words at the club but he knew his progeny right about one thing: He needed more information to find Russell and his minion Sejour. He had hoped to use Alcide as leverage to squeeze every last piece of information out of Jackson Herveaux's weak-willed brain. What he might have done with the Weres after that he hadn't quite decided. By the time he rose, Alcide would likely have retrieved his father and hunkered down at some secret wolf location.

But as he flew through the dark, Eric thought of another source that might have clues to where Russell was and what his plans might be. Eric changed direction and headed toward the border with Mississippi.

He would not reach his destination before dawn so he would have to go to ground for the day. It had been a long time since Eric had been forced to sleep in the earth, but he hadn't forgotten the primal sense of security burrowing deep into the earth provided for a vampire. He would welcome that feeling now.

Eric landed in an isolated area far away from roads or dwellings. The trees were thick here and the soil was moist, almost swampy. That wasn't precisely to his taste but it would do. He prepared his resting place faster than the human eye could follow but dawn was very close.

Soon he was dug in and ready for sunrise. The inescapable pull of his day's sleep began to suck him down. Just as he was about to surrender to it he heard something. Something impossible.

_Eric._

His eyes flew open. "Sookie?" he whispered in disbelief.

_Eric._

"Sookie!" He cried. _"Sookie, where are you?" _There was no sense of presence, feeling or direction in the bond. It remained as empty as before. He strained all his senses for several minutes, searching.

But he heard nothing more until finally, death took him for the day.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Sorry about the delay in posting. Real life issues abound. Read and enjoy._

Sookie forced herself to eat the food placed before her although she barely tasted it. Who knew if they would continue to feed her?

Russell and Anton chatted lightly in another language that Sookie thought was French, nursing their goblets of blood in a casual manner. Clearly both had fed recently enough to take the edge off their hunger. Be thankful for small favors, she told herself.

Once she finished every last crumb of her meal, she laid the cloth napkin beside her plate. She noticed she hadn't been given any silverware, although none had been needed with the sandwich and fruit. To prevent injury to the vampires or herself, she wondered? She placed her hands in her lap so no one could see them shaking. She steeled her spine and forced herself to catch Russell's eye. She refused to let him terrorize her, or at least to let him know it.

But he was alert to her finishing and acknowledged her pleasantly enough. "Ah, Miss Stackhouse. I hope you enjoyed your meal?" Sookie didn't respond but Russell sailed on regardless, playing the charming host. She had to remember that although he seemed to observe human social conventions, he could kill her in an instant.

"Then let us begin," Russell nodded to his progeny and his prisoner as if he were opening a meeting at the Rotary Club. "As you're aware, Miss Stackhouse, your unique gifts are the reason you are here. Now, I could peel the skin from your body in one piece and display it on my wall. A process during which, I assure you, I could keep you alive and aware for a very long time. And I would be fully justified in doing so, given your crimes against me and my beloved." He flashed a fangy smile and Sookie struggled to remain unaffected by the horrible images he conjured. "But I am not a savage." Another smile. "I'm a pragmatist. I believe we can have a productive working relationship."

Sookie decided she couldn't just sit and let Russell spin whatever dire plan he had in mind without interruption. "But you know now that my blood doesn't really let you walk in the sun. It may taste good, but it can't do that much for you."

Pointing out her own uselessness. She wondered if that was a good move.

"Please don't underestimate yourself, my dear. There may be a solution to the problem you speak of." Russell was far too confident for Sookie's comfort. What did he mean? "Besides, you have other valuable talents. I haven't forgotten your telepathy. Or your fairy power." He smiled fondly at Sejour. "Anton has that shut down for now but I am sure, in time, we can put it to good use."

Sookie's stomach was tied in knots. She might not survive the night but she wasn't going to roll over for this psycho. "I will never, ever do anything for you willingly. Eric and Bill will track you down. They beat you once and they will again. You killed that guy on national, live TV. You'll be the new Bin Laden once they know you're back. Every redneck with a stake and wooden bullets will be gunning for you. The whole US government, plus the AVL wants you dead, too. You won't win against all of them." She was breathing hard by the time she finished. She wondered if he would kill her now.

Russell chuckled as if she were a toddler who'd said something funny but nonsensical. "Insightful analysis, my dear, but completely wrong on every point. Where shall I start?" His goblet of blood was empty and Sejour promptly rose to refill it. "First, nobody knows I have returned. And they won't until I'm ready to make myself known at the proper time. Second, the AVL has its own problems to worry about. They are in a factional crisis from which they will not recover. I've seen to that. And the US government has much more to think about than me, if they can even be persuaded that I'm back. The world economic system is on the verge of collapse. Chaos is growing in every corner of the world. The old social and political systems are breaking down but for the first time there is nothing to replace them. All the familiar "isms" have been discredited. People don't know what to put their faith in anymore. Thus, extremists of all stripes who promise they have the answer and that the world is really black and white after all, are on the rise."

Russell sipped his blood, warming to his topic like a professor with a favorite student. "The supernaturals themselves are in turmoil. Some of the two-natured want to come out, some don't. The development of technology makes "outing" inevitable and they'll have no control over it. Too, they're angry that old hunting grounds and habitats are disappearing all over the world. Environmental laws are weak and getting weaker in the face of growing population and scarce resources. The supes are ready for a strong leader who will put their needs first; who can stand against human greed and stop the ruin of the planet."

"Every Were and shifter I know would rather die than serve a vamp with a God-complex," Sookie sneered. "You're just like every other lunatic who wants to rule the world. Ever hear of Napoleon or Hitler? They lost, you know." She couldn't stand to listen to Russell's smug fantasy anymore.

Russell shook his head as if sorrowing over her inability to understand the complexity of his thoughts. "That is their choice, of course," he said, referring to her first comment. She tried not to envision Sam or Alcide put to death because they refused to yield to Russell's dominion. The madman continued, "I liked Bonaparte. He had style. A brilliant general; a skilled politician who modernized the legal system and infrastructure of the country. He enjoyed art and culture, too. Anton, Talbot and I had a fine time in Paris, didn't we?" He sighed nostalgically and Sejour gave a slight nod, finishing his blood. "But Napoleon never should have invaded Russia, or declared himself Emperor. He should never have listened to me, in fact."

For just an instant, Sookie thought she could see Russell's true face-skeletal, ancient and cruel-author and instigator of so much human suffering. Then the vision was gone, and she thought she might have imagined it. Although the reality was bad enough.

"As for Adolph, well, I saw an opportunity and took it. He really wasn't a very stable tool. But he ended up blowing his brains out in a bunker and I am very much in the here and now. So all's well that ends well, eh Miss Stackhouse?"

Sookie could barely process all the horror pouring out of the vampire's mouth. Six million dead in the ovens, and this man had a hand in it? What more was he capable of?

A lot more, as it turned out.

"Now, Sookie; I may call you Sookie may I not? We're going to be so close." The vampire leaned over as if he would have patted her hand if it were available. "As for your own situation," Russell interrupted himself. "Oh, but first, let's get you something drink. More milk, sweet tea or something stronger?" Sookie thought these human-like pleasantries were meant to disarm and confuse her, to deepen her pyschological dependence on her captors. Russell had had three thousand years to observe his human prey and perfect his manipulation of them. How in God's name was she supposed to defend herself?

She had been drugged, tied up, mentally tortured and absolutely terrified today. She just wanted to lay down and pretend it was all a bad dream. She was utterly exhausted. She took a deep breath. She couldn't give up. She'd have to examine every word he said for traps and double meaning. She had to stay sharp and find any weakness to use against her enemy.

She _was_ thirsty, she realized. At first Sookie thought of refusing, in case the drink might be poisoned or drugged. But then she decided that Russell was having way too much fun trying to impress her with his plans to knock her out yet. "I'll take sweet tea. Three sugars." She needed it strong and sweet to sustain her.

Sejour smoothly rose and took a pitcher of tea out of a refrigerator whose doors had looked like wood paneling so she hadn't noticed them before. He poured her a large glass, added the requested sugars and served it to her with grave courtesy. Sejour had said little tonight, yielding the floor to his maker. What was his part in all this, besides his magic use, she wondered. Was he just the muscle or did he give Russell advice? Talbot had been Russell's main heartthrob. What was Sejour's place in the "family"? He certainly hadn't been around in Mississippi at Russell's playboy mansion. Eric and Bill hadn't known about him, even though Sejour had apparently been in Paris with Russell at the time of Napoleon. Not a recent turning, then.

As she slowly drank her tea, Sookie speculated on Sejour's past. Vampires could have wildly different relationships with their makers. Bill had ended up despising Lorena and held her down for Sookie to drive a stake through. Eric had lived long years apart from Godric while still loving him deeply. Where did Sejour fall on this continuum?

"Well, now that you're comfortable, let's continue." Russell clearly still had things to tell her. Sookie knew she wouldn't like it. "You and your vampire entourage did me great harm. Merciful as I am," he flashed Sookie a narrow-eyed look. "I can't let it go completely unpunished. You've probably wondered why your faithless Sheriff Northman and his absurd King Bill haven't come to rescue you yet. Even though their connection with you is broken, I'm sure you take comfort in the notion that they will try to find you." Russell gave a sad smile. "I'm afraid, sweetheart, that you're dead to them. Would you like to see your obituary when it comes out?"

In a smooth voice Russell described her staged murder and the destruction of her family home. Sookie's mind began to float away from her body. The pain and suffering of her family and friends was too much for her take in. Did Eric really think she was dead? He'd never repeated his declaration of love after the night his memories returned but she knew he had feelings for her, just as she did for him. He would be enraged, but would he know where to direct his vengeance? Or would he think it was sad she was gone but that it resolved a messy emotional situation he'd never asked for, never wanted?

_She was completely alone now. _

The next thing she knew, Sejour was pressing the glass of tea to her lips. His cool hand cupped the back of her neck, not painful but insistent that she would drink. Sookie lifted hopeless eyes to his black ones. She couldn't read the expression in them, if there was any. She took a small sip of the tea, then a longer drink. He held the glass in place until she waved a hand indicating she could stay upright on her own.

"What are you going to do with me?" Sookie was proud of the steadiness of her voice. She needed to know what her fate would be. She'd never contemplated suicide but for the first time, she wondered if death would be preferable to whatever existence Russell had in store for her.

"My clever boy has devised a way to use his power to magnify the effects of your fairy blood." Sookie almost expected Russell to tell Sejour to take a bow, he made his announcement with such satisfaction. "If all goes according to plan, I'll be able to walk in the sun as much as I like. As long as I have access to your blood, of course. Fortunately I won't have to drain you but can feed moderately at a rate which, with care, your body will able to replenish. We'll be together for _years _to come, my dear." Russell sounded almost giddy with excitement. "And eventually, you'll serve me by reading the minds of Weres, shifters and humans that I deal with."

Over your dead body, Sookie thought silently. Aloud she said, "No matter how careful you are, someday I will die. You can't do this forever."

"It's true that individual humans do not keep well. But humans have their own form of immortality: children." Sookie looked into Russell's eyes and saw the glittering madness there. He gestured to Sejour who rose, walked to a desk at the far end of the room and returned with a file folder which he opened and handed to Russell. "You must recognize this. It's your geneology compiled by the enterprising Mr. Compton."

Why the hell did Russell care about her family? "You know I'm the only one with fairy blood. My granddaddy Earl is long dead. Nobody else can do what I can." So he didn't know that she had been to the realm of the Fae, and that there were many other human-fairy hybrids that had been "harvested" by the Fairy Queen. Could she use this to her advantage somehow? She would have to think carefully about that.

"Perhaps that's true," Russell acknowledged. "But evolution and genes are powerful forces in themselves. Look at your telepathy. It skipped a generation between your grandfather and yourself. Yet the gift bypassed your brother and your cousin Hadley, even though you all are in the same generation. That indicates the fairy gene is recessive. Your relatives may be carriers although they don't have telepathy themselves. They could pass the trait on to their young. The chances of the gene being expressed is even greater if two carriers mate and have children, of course."

_Please God, don't let him find out about Hadley's son, she prayed. _

"Now, I assure you we will be on the lookout for another fairy hybrid such as yourself so that you can have children of your own. Something you were never going to have with vampires, I might add. So I am trying to give you what you want most. A mate and a family of your own." God, did he think he was Santa with fangs? Sookie clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. Russell smiled briefly and sighed. "Of course, finding another like you will take time and I'm not the most patient person. A sad failing, Talbot used to tell me. So we must consider the alterneratives."

"Mating brother to sister would have too high a chance of genetically morbid offspring, however intriguing the possibilities might be," Russell eyed her speculatively. Sookie thought she might be sick. "But first cousins have married for centuries and produced viable progeny. Your brother the deputy is easily obtained. I haven't seen Hadley since right before Talbot was murdered. Have you forgiven her for betraying you to the Queen? If she'd kept her mouth shut Bill Compton would not have seduced you on his Queen's orders, and you wouldn't be here right now." Russell shook his head wonderingly. "Fate is a funny old thing isn't it, dear girl?"

"Well, Sophie Anne certainly was attached to her little concubine. I hardly think the noble Bill would hold with the tradition of executing the human favorites of his predecessor so I imagine we can find her if we look hard enough." The vampire gave her a calculating glance and continued.

"Of course, I'm sure you know that William was the one who brought Hadley to Sophie Anne in the first place. He was the Queen's procurer for 35 years, scouring the streets, clubs and bars of Louisiana to bring her whatever delicacy she was in the mood for at the time. He certainly rose in Sophie Anne's favor when he delivered a treasure like Hadley; pretty, not too smart, no family in the way, and her blood so strangely sweet. Then Hadley gave up the prize-you, the potential fairy. Bill was dispatched to confirm what you were and create a connection to you so Sophie Anne would finally have a real reason to wear sunscreen." Russell chuckled at the idiosyncracies of his deceased spouse.

_Death by a thousand cuts_.

That's what it felt like. Each thing Russell said made her heart bleed and crushed her spirit a little bit more: To live for years under his control being fed on and exploited like livestock; to know everyone who loved her believed she was dead; to dread her brother and cousin would be captured and forced to produce children for Russell's evil use; to hear Bill was a sort of vampire pimp responsible for God knew how many innocent lives being used up and discarded by Sophie Anne, including Hadley's. How much more could she bear?

"Russell," Anton spoke for the first time in his cool voice. "It will be dawn quite soon. Perhaps it is time to let Miss Stackhouse retire. She has had a trying day and you have given her much to think about."

"Why, of course!" Russell exclaimed easily. "Pray excuse my lack of manners, Sookie. I'm sure you wish to rest and reflect." He stood up and nodded to Anton. "Please settle our guest in for the day. We'll begin our work tomorrow evening. Until then, my dear."

Anton gave a slight bow to his maker and went to stand behind Sookie. Russell walked to a paneled door at the far end of the room, punched in a code and passed into what appeared to be another suite. The door shut solidly behind him.

Anton put a light hand on Sookie's shoulder and helped her with her chair so she could rise from the table. She felt a thousand years older than when she'd sat down. She turned to face the silent vampire.

"So what happens now?" she asked. "I just want to go to bed."

"Soon," Anton said briefly. "Please remove your robe and lay down. I'll try to be as quick as possible so you can rest."

Sookie had the strangest feeling he was reluctant to start whatever it was he was about to do. "Why? What's going on?" She began to get scared. _More scared._

"I must renew the controls the loa have over your fairy magic. Their power has waned," he explained.

"No, please." Sookie backed away from the vampire. "I won't use my powers, I promise. They're really unreliable so I never know when they're going to work anyway."

"It's my maker's command. I must obey," Anton said, quite gently. "Lay down now and try to get comfortable. You know I can force you." He stated this as a simple fact, not a threat.

"Your maker is a fucking lunatic and his stupid plans will never work!" Sookie lashed out. "And someday I'm going to sink a stake into both of you!" She was so tired of these bullshit vampires doing awful things to her.

Anton ignored her outburst. He backed up a few steps, perhaps to help reduce her fear. "Please," he said again, gesturing to the bed.

Sookie knew she couldn't win a physical confrontation. _Choose your battles. Stay alive and come daylight, figure out how to escape._

She straightened up. Slowly and with dignity, she removed her robe and draped it on the end of the bed. She reluctantly climbed in, taking care to keep the open-backed gown gathered around her. Thankfully she didn't sense any sexual threat from the vampire. This helped her have the courage to lay down full length on the bed. She felt very vulnerable as he came to stand over her.

Anton looked down at her, almost with regret, she thought. "You were drugged before," he said. She didn't have time to wonder what he meant, as he continued, "Forgive me, but it is for your own safety."

Faster than she could imagine, the vampire blurred around the bed and she herself strapped down with padded canvas cuffs on her wrists and ankles.

"No," Sookie whispered, and silently she started to cry. She couldn't help it. The restraints brought back the torture and violation she'd endured earlier.

"I will be quick, and then you can rest," Anton said again.

Sookie made a huge effort to stop her tears. She tried to brace herself for whatever would happen next.

Anton went to the refrigerator and came back with a thick crockery bowl. "Pig's blood from a slaughterhouse," Anton explained. "Not what I prefer but it will do for tonight."

Slowly, so as not to startle her, Anton smeared some of the blood on Sookie's forehead, cheeks and neck, murmuring words she didn't understand.

After several seconds, a low buzzing began in her ears; a very faint static. Anton's hands stroked lightly but purposefully over her face and body, coming to rest on her belly. Gradually the white noise intensified until it seemed to vibrate in her bones and grate along every nerve. She felt an uncontrollable urge to twitch all over like a horse dislodging a fly. Sookie jerked hard against the restraints. She moaned out loud.

The vampire made small comforting noises as if calming a wounded animal. Without warning the sensations within her body instensified. Tiny, toothy _things _were crawling around inside her, making her skin ripple and distort like a horror movie special effect. Panting heavily in fear, she struggled uselessly to escape.

Anton placed his hands on each side of her face. Sookie whimpered, "Please don't."

"Be brave," he said softly.

Suddenly she felt the vampire inside her mind. He seemed able to open a window but couldn't enter completely. Sookie had a mental image of herself clothed in white flowing garments standing on a grassy lawn, glowing slightly. Black, sticky strings of energy appeared and snaked their way across the ground. She found herself unable to move. She exerted all her strength but couldn't lift a finger or wiggle a toe. The dark molasses-like wraiths began to twine around her feet, twisting and binding her legs together, slithering up her body. Despite her struggles, she was quickly covered in the pulsing strands; a fly bound up in spider's silk. They roped around her neck. She opened her mouth to scream but had no breath.

At first there was only silence. As the voracious threads wormed their way down her throat to stifle her forever, from somewhere came the ability to form one word.

_Eric!_

Sookie was disappearing; she would soon cease to exist.

_Eric!_

The loa dragged her under.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Some Eric and Sookie goodness. Enjoy._

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_Flashback_

It was three weeks to the day since she told the two vampires in her life that the only way she could cope was to walk away from both of them. The first week she cried. The second week she cried and ate double fudge chocolate ice cream every night.

The third week she got horny.

Since Bill Compton introduced her to sex and Eric Northman had given her the advanced course, Sookie had been the lucky recipient of frequent, supernaturally skillful lovemaking. Her body didn't care what her reasons were, it was protesting the drought vigorously. When she found herself standing in the produce aisle looking longingly at cucumbers, and not in a salad way, she knew she had to do something.

She'd already driven herself nearly insane with a mature, logical approach to figuring out which vampire was her man. She hadn't been able to choose. Gran's advice that it was okay to be alone had seemed right at the time, resulting in her current solo status. But she was still unhappy and unsatisfied.

So, if her head didn't know, maybe her body did. For three nights in a row, instead of trying to suppress the erotic images that crowded her mind, she let them have free rein. She decided to see whether Bill or Eric won the sexual prize in her dreams. What could it hurt?

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Late on the fourth night, she awoke to a vigorous rattling of her bedroom window. She glanced at her bedside clock. Two thirty am.

She sat up groggily and looked around. Was there a storm coming up?

Close. Eric Northman stood outside looking very irritable. He knocked on the glass again so hard she thought he'd break it.

"Okay, just a minute," she called. Sookie pulled on her worn pink robe and belted it securely around her like armor. She unlocked the window and threw it open.

"If that's cracked you're paying for it!" Sookie snapped. "What the hell do you want, Eric?" She was uncomfortably aware of the tall vampire's proximity outside the glass, only a few inches away. He was dressed in his usual dark jeans and black leather jacket underlain with a tight purple T-shirt. She could sense him nearly vibrating with some intense emotion. He was clearly annoyed but there was something more...

"Let me in," Eric commanded in a deep voice.

"Well, Mr. Rude, I didn't rescind your invitation, at least not recently; so I can't stop you," Sookie retorted. She was aware she had on only a thin sleep shirt under her robe and French cut pink panties on under that. She was certainly not in the mood to tell Eric Northman he had been the winner of her erotic fantasy sweepstakes for the last three nights. "But I don't know if I want you in my house, Eric. It's late and I have to be at work for the early shift tomorrow."

Eric's face darkened with anger. "Don't play coy with me, Sookie Stackhouse. You know very well what you've been doing."

Sookie's discomfort with Eric's nearness began to evolve into irritation of her own. "I haven't done anything to you. So you can just fly your Viking ass straight back to Shreveport!"

"You have deliberately taunted me every night for the last three, using the most erotic imagery imaginable!" Quick as a snake, Eric's hand flashed through the window and seized Sookie's arm, pulling her toward him and halfway out of the opening. "In or out, my lover." Eric's silky tone left no doubt in her mind that those were her only two choices and he was not just going to go away.

"In" meant her bedroom, emphasis on bed; and that was far too dangerous at the moment. "Out," she muttered sullenly. She allowed the vampire to take her other arm, ducked her head and trusted his strength to pull her smoothly out of her first floor bedroom window. Rather than set her on the ground, however, Eric instantly took flight at great speed.

His one-armed hold across her back seemed far too casual to Sookie. She scrabbled for better purchase on his long, lean body, until she was wrapped around him like a monkey on meth.

"Eric, goddammit, you put me on the ground right now or so help me, I'll-_aaahhh!_ Her threat ended in a breathless shriek as Eric dove suddenly toward the trees far below them. She clinched her arms and legs even tighter around him as he leveled out and the wind whipped her hair in her face.

"I don't think you're in a position to do much of anything, Sookie," Eric said in knife-edged tones. "You were the one who decided there was no future for us and walked away. I was left simply to accept your ultimatum and go on as if our time together had no meaning."

The vampire swooped upward, stealing Sookie's breath away once more when she would have responded to his remarks. Eric's blue eyes glinted darkly in his pale face. "Three weeks with not a word from you. Then an unrelenting erotic onslaught three bloody nights in a row!" His evident frustration boiled over. "Images of your bare breasts offered up like a feast to a starving man; of you sunbathing in two tiny scraps of material where anyone-everyone-can drink in your beauty without penalty; you displayed on the bed, gasping and moaning while you pleasure yourself; of me kneeling over you, pounding into you from behind."

Sookie's inner core heated as his words brought back those same visions. Because of the bond, he must have somehow been privy to her lascivious dreams!

_Oh. My. God. _

Eric continued his grievance, at the same time grinding against her so she could tell he was very aroused. _Very_.

"I can't concentrate on business. I do not take pleasure in feeding. Pam suffers because of my ill temper. My ardor cannot be quenched by any other woman." Eric's embrace tightened until the pressure was nearly painful. "Do you seek to punish me for once again being the "Real Eric" you couldn't bring yourself to allow into your bed?" His fangs ran out completely and he dipped his head to press a hard kiss on her lips. Deliberately or not, he drew blood but didn't apologize.

Enraged, Sookie reared back as far as she dared, given their mid-air embrace. "Fuck you, Eric I never...," Sookie began heatedly. The vampire executed a lazy roll in space, just enough to make her tummy swoon as if she was on a fast elevator. She correctly took this as a warning to moderate her tone. This was a Viking on the edge.

Sookie took a deep breath and tried not to look down. "Okay," Sookie said evenly. "I'm sorry. I didn't exactly open the floor for discussion when I decided I couldn't be with either you or Bill." She felt rather than heard a subterranean rumble from Eric at the mention of Bill's name.

_Well that's just too bad. He wanted an explanation and Bill is part of it._

"I was dealing with a lot right then. Finding out Bill was sent by the Queen to seduce me; losing a year of my life with the fairies; the witches and then getting involved with you...it was too much. Especially when I had to choose between the two most important men in my life." This all came out in a rush, as if she was ripping off an emotional band-aid. "Choosing neither of you was the best decision I could make at the time." She hid her face in Eric's chest as she waited for his reaction.

"Credit me with some intelligence, Sookie." Eric responded. " I realized what you were going through. Otherwise you would have found yourself thrown over my shoulder and safely locked in my bedroom before you could say 'Goodbye Bill.'"

Despite the highhandedness of this remark, Sookie could tell that the worst of Eric's anger had passed, although she sensed his curiosity continued unabated. And he was not going to let that go unsatisfied.

Eric hovered negligently in mid-air as if the law of gravity simply forgot he was there. He settled Sookie's smooth tanned legs more securely around his hips. Once again she was sharply aware that with her robe and sleep shirt hitched up around her waist, only a thin scrap of material separated her pulsing center from Eric's straining cock.

"Couldn't we continue this conversation on solid ground?" Sookie chanced a peek over Eric's shoulder and then squeezed her eyes shut again.

Eric nuzzled her neck and scraped his fangs across the top of her breasts exposed by the scoop neck of her shirt. "No, I think we will be up here awhile yet. You can't run away from me or rescind my invitation. You have to stay and face the consequences of your actions." His blue eyes gleamed like little supernovas but not with anger this time. Had she ever been so much at Eric's mercy?

Sookie shivered.

"Are you cold, my lover?" Eric asked solicitously. Sookie was a little suspicious since she knew he didn't intend to take her home any time soon. She had to admit she wasn't uncomfortable. The night was warm and humid for November, even at this height. There was no wind since Eric wasn't doing any aerial acrobatics. At the moment.

"I'm okay," she said finally, unable to think of a reason not to give a straight answer. She should have known better. Vampires don't think in straight lines.

"Then you won't need this." Before she could blink, Eric used one hand to tear her T-shirt open down the middle, revealing her smooth generous breasts and flat belly. But Eric wasn't done. "Or these." Suddenly her panties were torn away, drifting slowly down through space. Wildly, Sookie wondered what some unsuspecting person would think, finding her panties draped on their mailbox or windshield the next morning.

"Eric!" she squealed. "What are you doing?"

Then suddenly she got it.

Eric had been utterly exposed emotionally by losing his memories, living with her and then declaring his love for her even after those memories returned. And after taking him into her home, her bed and her heart, she had walked away. He was exposing her, too; but in a different way. She must have hurt her Viking far more than he would ever admit.

"Now, my Sookie, you will explain the vexation I have been subjected to these past nights," Eric's silky tone brooked no refusal. "Though I'm beginning to think there is more to the story."

Sookie tried to tuck her face into Eric's neck; she didn't want to see him while she explained. Eric, however, would not allow her this cowardice and grasped her chin to raise it so they were eye to eye.

No place to hide, Sookie thought. Okay, then.

"I meant what I said to you and Bill that night. I couldn't see a way for me to be with either of you. I didn't want to hurt anybody and I still don't." Eric gazed at her unblinkingly. After an awkward pause, Sookie continued. "I kept waiting for it to get better. I'd made my decision and I stood by it. But the confusion and hurt inside didn't go away. I put us all through so much pain but nothing seemed to get resolved." She shrugged helplessly and genuine anguish shone in her eyes.

Eric reached out to wipe away a tear she hadn't known was there. He licked it slowly from his finger and a bolt of desire shot through her belly. He kissed her softly on the forehead which she took as encouragement to continue. "On top of all that, I really missed...I mean, my hormones..."

She felt Eric's eyes on her lips and his arousal was still very much pressed between her widely spread and exposed legs. Eric quirked an eyebrow at her as if he knew the source of her distraction.

Oh the hell with it, she thought. "I got horny, okay?" she huffed in exasperation. "My brain was like a hamster on a wheel running to nowhere. So I thought maybe my...body...could make a better decision than my head. Instead of trying to suppress all my sexual impulses I kind of let them have their way with me for a few nights." She suspected she was blushing-all over. "I hoped I'd find out something useful."

"Let me see if I understand correctly," Eric said. She risked a look at his face which was, to his credit, expressionless. "You decided to indulge your erotic imagination in the hopes that your own libido would tell you who you should be with."

Sookie cringed. This was worse than she'd imagined.

"This in turn led to the quite pornographic broadcasts I received from you the last few nights," Eric concluded as if he'd solved a particularly difficult equation.

"Well, if you're going to make it sound stupid," Sookie muttered. Now she knew he was laughing at her.

"And did Bill receive your dreams, too?" he asked evenly.

"I don't know!" she wailed, wishing she could crawl in a hole and pull it in after her. "I didn't even realize you were "tuned in" until tonight. He sure didn't say anything to me."

"Good," Eric said in a tone of complete satisfaction. Before Sookie could take a breath, Eric opened his jeans, released his cock and plunged inside her. Despite her lengthy explanation with its attendant embarrassment, she was wet and ready. Eric had that effect on her, as he was well aware. Eric didn't move for a moment, letting her get used to him again. "You are mine, Sookie. Your body knows it." He slid out smoothly only to ram in deeply to the hilt once more. Sookie gasped and met his thrust eagerly. It felt wonderful after being empty for so long.

Eric tightened his hold on her hips, crushing her to him possessively. "You know you belong to me, if you're honest with yourself. I won't let you go again." He kissed her thoroughly, expertly exploring her warm mouth. His probing tongue matched his rhythm below and she felt utterly filled. "Your choices have just narrowed down to one. And I'm it." He nipped her earlobe sensually and sent a tingle directly between her legs.

Sookie was in a warm golden haze and getting warmer by the minute. She returned Eric's kisses with abandon, raining them on his cheeks, neck and shoulders. She rubbed her hands over his chest beneath his shirt, licking and lightly biting his nipples in the way she knew he liked. He moaned and seemed to grow even larger within her. He thrust hard and deep, faster and faster. Passion drove her so high and far, she thought she might touch the stars above her. Eric reached between them to roll her clitoris between his fingers, pinching it slightly. Her desire swelled like a balloon, growing bigger and tighter, occupying all the available space within her; until she burst into thousands of radiant shivering fragments.

She was still trying to get her breath back when Eric whispered, "Hold on, my lover. We're not done yet." With that he drove deep within her at the same moment he plunged toward the ground. The velocity of his dive behind him, he impaled her with his cock to unimaginable depths. She screamed with the pleasure/pain of it. He rolled them over and over so she no longer knew which way was up or who was on top or bottom. Her stomach flips left her panting and dark spots flared in front of her eyes, translating her repeated orgasms into a kind of breathless ecstasy.

Eric thrust again and again, his gaze never leaving hers. She seemed to drown in the velvet blue of his eyes, mirrored in the velvet blue of a diamond sky. Freed from her earlier fear by passion, she threw her arms out and let her head fall back as they soared and tumbled through the endless dark. He sank his fangs into her exposed neck and sucked deeply, sending her over the edge again. When Eric came at last it was like an explosion in space, with ripples of energy fanning out across the galaxies, taking light years to reach earth. Sookie thought she would feel the aftershocks for days.

Slowly, her awareness returned to a semblance of normal. She realized Eric was gently wafting to the ground with her tenderly caught in his arms. He kissed her softly on the lips, and set her on her feet, steadying her until he was sure she could stand on her own. "You are mine." Eric declared, as if all doubts had been settled. From his point of view, they clearly had. "I will care for you. We will be together from now on."

Sookie laid her head on his chest, which was cool and silent. Was this her future? She hadn't exactly gotten a repeated admission of his love for her. She thought about what Eric had said and then about what he hadn't.

After a long moment, she smiled. It was a start.

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Sookie jerked awake. She wasn't in her own bed and she couldn't see her windows. The room was completely dark.

Everything came back to her in a flash. She was a captive of Russell Edgington, subject to the nightmare of a life he had planned out for her. She drew a shuddering breath. Her eyes felt tired and swollen; she'd cried a lot last night.

Well, it was a new fucking day and she wasn't going to let him win if she could help it.

She was grateful to realize she was no longer restrained. She ran a hand over her face. Sejour must have washed the blood off after she passed out. She wasn't sure what she thought about that.

A digital clock glowed in the dark, telling her it was 6:15am. She hadn't slept long. The vampires would just have gone to their rest. With some fumbling she found a lamp on the bedside table and snapped it on. The suite looked the same as it had last night though she could tell Sejour must have washed the few dishes and put them away.

Sookie grabbed the robe from the end of the bed and went into the bathroom. After taking care of her most urgent needs, she started the shower. With no vamp to to limit her this time, she spent as long as she wanted under the hot water, using every setting of the sophisticated massage shower head. She walked into the suite drying her hair with a fluffy towel, dressed in the robe. Her own clothes had been destroyed and she was not going to wear that hospital gown again if she could help it.

She started looking through the highboy where Sejour had retrieved the gown. To her surprise, she found numerous sets of bras and panties in her size, along with socks, shirts, and jeans. Nothing fancy or titillating but all serviceable and quite welcome. She eventually located a built-in wardrobe with a coat, three nice pantsuits and two fairly conservative dresses. She found sneakers, boots and pumps. Clearly they anticipated her having a long stay.

She wouldn't think about that. She got dressed in jeans, a printed T-shirt of mint green and black ankle boots. She had several hours of daylight left to explore her prison and formulate an escape plan.

It didn't matter if the whole world thought she was dead and moved on without her. Been there, done that, bought the fairy wings.

There was a way out of this hell and she would find it.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: I haven't abandoned the story or any faithful readers who might be left. My muse has been wandering in the wilderness, probably having orgies with black eyed, bug-eyed freaks. I appreciate the frustration of following a work in progress. Anyway, thank you all for your past support.

Sam Merlotte sat in his aged Suburban and gazed at the ruin of Sookie's home. Smoky phantoms still curled upward from the ashes in the early morning chill. Luna, in the seat next to him, wasn't sure Sam actually saw any of it. She'd been at his place last night when he got the news about the explosion and Sookie being missing. Luna knew Sam's deep concern for his friend and helped him contact various people by phone to find out if they had seen her. She had driven with him all over Bon Temps until late at night looking for the waitress. When Jason Stackhouse called to say that Compton told him Sookie had been murdered by an unknown killer, Luna comforted Sam as he raged helplessly and finally, wept in her arms.

He'd introduced her to the blond telepath a few weeks ago. Luna knew Sam had once been in love with Sookie and still held her in deep affection so she'd been prepared not to like her. But the waitress' genuine friendliness and her clear pleasure that Sam had someone new in his life to care about, melted any hostility Luna might have harbored. The women even had fun comparing notes on Sam's quirks and making him feel distinctly nervous. Luna had looked forward to becoming better friends with another woman who knew about shifters. Now that would never happen.

She wondered what Sam would do now.

Sam gripped his steering wheel. Jason was taking the murder of his sister way too calmly. The bar owner didn't like vampires very much, even the bloody King of Louisiana. How had Compton managed that, anyway? And where had Sookie gone last year? Vampire business his ass! She'd never gotten around to giving him the promised explanation for her disappearance. Now Bill announced Sookie had been murdered and her brother did nothing, just trusted the vampire to make everything right? No frickin' way!

Nothing about this made sense. Sam felt his anger building, fighting to be set free. Sookie's death unleashed the darkness within him he tried so hard to control. He didn't know what he might do. Sam felt a pressure on his arm. He turned and saw Luna gripping him tightly with her hand. She looked at him with warmth and concern. Sam relaxed a little.

"I need to run," he said abruptly. He peeled off his jacket then stepped out of the truck to remove the rest of his clothes.

"I'm coming with you," called Luna. Sam seemed on the point of refusing then said, "I'd like that."

In minutes, both shifters had shed their clothing and changed shape. Sam shifted to his favorite collie. He knew Luna's usual animal was a horse but today she turned into a glossy black lab to join him.

They took off into the woods as the day warmed around them. In his shifted form, Sam had little sense of time. He and Luna ran until they were tired, drank thirstily from a fast-running stream, and lazed together in a clearing under the mild mid-day sun. After awhile, Sam drowsily realized Luna was up and sniffing curiously around the edge of the clearing. Then she disappeared into the thick underbrush. He waited a few moments for her to come back. When she didn't, he trotted over to follow her.

He tracked Luna's scent through a tangle of dead vines, leafless branches and damp rotting vegetation. He was surprised to find her digging into what appeared to be a large nest of leaves, whining and whimpering. As he came to sit beside her, she shifted suddenly to her human form. "Sam," she said urgently. "Tell me what you smell."

Sam snuffled deeply in the ground cover. He growled as the scent became clear as a photo depicting what had lay in wait here less than twenty-four hours ago. He quickly regained his human self. "Shifter," he said, still almost growling. "A shifter was here on Sookie's land, just yesterday."

Luna nodded, rubbing her bare arms in the chill air despite the sun. "Anyone you know? I couldn't place it."

Sam shook his head, pacing. "Nobody I know. I think it's another pure shifter though, like us." He realized that Luna was covered in goose bumps from head to toe. "Let's change and get back to the car. I've got some checking to do."

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Jackson Herveaux stepped out of his front door wearing a robe, pajama bottoms and the fleece lined moccassins his daughter Janice had given him as a birthday present. It was early, the sun just up. He held a cup of strong coffee in his hands and peered into the bushes to see where the Sunday paper had landed this time. He spotted it under the flowering mums, brightly gold in their fall finery. Jackson stomped over to retrieve the paper in its plastic wrapper, brushing off the damp soil and leaves. He took another drink of his coffee and contemplated showing up at the paperboy's window the next full moon for a heart to heart on proper paper throwing technique.

His two story house boasted faux Greek columns on the front porch and a sprawling front yard in this upper middle class subdivision outside Jackson. He was a lawn-proud man and since his son Alcide had taken over more of the company's day-to-day operations, he was able to spend a lot of time creating landscaping that looked like it belonged in a photo spread of _House and Garden_. He surveyed his surburban domain and let out a satisfied sigh. Business was good despite the economy; his children were happy and self-supporting; his grandkids were cute, fairly well-behaved and accomplished in school and sports. He held responsible positions in the community and his pack, with an eye on eventually becoming pack leader. That little unpleasantness of his indebtedness to the vampires had been taken care of, according to Alcide. He hadn't bothered to inquire too closely. He didn't like to think about it.

No, all was right with his world.

Jackson walked back into the house and settled in at the breakfast table for his ritual Sunday morning reading of the paper. His cell phone rang and he saw it was his son's number. They'd had a spat the day before but Jackson wasn't one to dwell on the past. He answered with a hearty, "Hello, son. How are you this fine morning?"

"Dad," Alcide's voice was tense. "I want you to listen to me real close and don't say anything. This is a matter of life and death, maybe yours and mine." Jackson began to speak but Alcide growled and interrupted loudly, something he rarely did with his father. "Shut up, Dad! I'm on my way to Jackson. You need to pack some clothes, enough for several days and be ready as soon as I get there. That property you sold was connected to the favor I did for the vamp to get you off the hook with him. You should've listened to me, but it's too late now. Northman is coming after us."

Jackson exploded with questions, protestations and denials but his son ruthlessly dealt with all of them. "I think Janice and her family are safe enough. Dad, you gotta take this seriously. I've never seen Eric like he was last night. We're going to lay low for awhile at a place I know. I'll explain everything then. Be ready to go," Alcide repeated and hung up.

Two hours later, Jackson had packed a bag and dressed for the possibility of sleeping rough. He'd also packed his .357 magnum with ammunition. He didn't know what the hell this was about and intended to give Alcide an earful about his attitude when he arrived. But deep down, though he'd never admit it, he knew Alcide was a stronger man than Jackson would ever be. If his son thought all this drama was necessary, then he believed him.

There was a loud knock at the front door. Jackson would have expected Alcide to park at the 3-car garage in back and come in through there. But he knew the boy was in a hurry so maybe he had the truck running for a quick getaway. Jackson grabbed his bag and opened the door without looking out the window first. He instantly regretted it. Four burly humans stood on his doorstep dressed in black suits that screamed "hired muscle".

The one closest to him pointed a large shiny gun at Jackson's chest. "Sir, nobody's going to get hurt as long as you don't make any sudden moves. Let's all step back inside, nice and easy."

Jackson was so surprised he automatically backed up into his house. Once inside, however, his anger erupted. He threw his bag in the face of the guy with the gun, who dodged and cursed fluently. Thankfully, he didn't shoot. Jackson pivoted on one foot and began to shift when another henchman quickly stepped up and slammed the butt of his own gun across the back of the werewolf's head. Jackson went down like a puppet with its strings cut, unconscious.

For several moments there was just silence and heavy breathing from the men. The first one turned to a figure that entered the tiled foyer and closed the open door. "Sorry, ma'am. He started to change and then we would've had a lot more injuries than this."

Connie Mitchell, still a little pale from her concussion, with scratches on her cheeks but impeccably dressed as usual, knelt down to check Jackson's pulse. It was strong and steady; a bit fast as she expected from a Were. "You knew he was a wolf and you should have planned accordingly. The King's orders were clear, Artie. Nobody gets hurt unless absolutely necessary." She stood up. "Secure him but make him as comfortable as possible. Remember he can and will change if given the chance. And get the vehicles out of sight, his son will be here soon."

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Sookie decided she needed to have some food in her as she explored her prison looking for a way to escape. She checked the refrigerator and found fruit, salad makings and deli meats as well as milk and several bottles of water. She ignored a whole shelf of True Blood. Rummaging around on the counter she discovered a loaf of bread in a carved wooden box and nearby, a toaster. She quickly prepared a breakfast of toast, sliced oranges and a bottle of water. She deeply regretted the absence of coffee but her cage could have been worse.

She did find a drawer with the basic flatware inside, along with some steak knives. So much for her theory that the vamps wanted to keep sharp objects away from her. They probably didn't see her as much of a physical threat. On the whole, they'd be right, she thought wryly. But she would come up with something.

As she expected there was no phone in the room. She didn't know what became of her own cell phone during her capture. Well, she needed a new one anyway. She checked the two doors leading into the suite. Both were heavy duty metal fire doors, at odds with the decor of the room. Each was controlled by the code pad mounted next to them in the wall. The pad had not just numbers but symbols, making the potential combinations far beyond her ability to guess. The controls were flush with the wall; it was impossible to pry off the top panel to short circuit even if she was figure out a way to do it.

She ran her hands over the doors but they were solid. The handles didn't move no matter how hard she tried. Any screws or hardware were hidden so she couldn't remove the handles or hinges. She banged loudly on the door to the hallway and screamed at the top of her voice but there was no response. Tears threatened as she slumped against the wall.

_Well I knew you weren't dead. I never gave up hope. All those who said they love you. Your brother, your friends, even Bill Compton gave up on you. But _I _never did._

Eric's words on the night she returned from Fairy-disoriented, shocked, grieving-at first she'd passed them off as another attempt at manipulation. Likewise his purchase of her house. But now she heard his deep voice curling around her like a warm blanket. He never gave up on her. No matter what Russell Edgington planned, Sookie knew Eric would try to stop him. She had to do her part and escape; then she would find her vampire and stake Russell's skinny ass.

She straightened her shoulders and swiped at her tears. She would figure this out. Sookie settled down on a deep red leather couch in front of the gas fireplace with a large screen TV mounted over it. She closed her eyes and cast her talent as wide as possible, seeking any minds in her vicinity. The vamps were asleep, their minds blank holes in her mental constellation. She didn't come across brain signatures anywhere in the building she occupied. She knew there were other buildings in the complex but they seemed located too far away for her to sense anyone else.

Okay, nobody close by. That meant she needed to do something to draw the attention of the people who were no doubt taking care of other residents during the day. Medical staff, security, patients...she'd settle for anyone as long as it wasn't a vamp. How to let someone know she was here?

Sookie searched the room for anything she could use. There were no windows, naturally. The TV had hundreds of channels and she located a Wii playstation but there was no outside internet connection. Her gaze slid over the walls and ceiling without anything registering. Then she looked back again. She gazed thoughtfully at a sprinkler head, and the plastic square light high up on one wall.

The fire alarm. Even if the business was vampire-owned, it still had to meet electrical and fire codes, especially since it was a medical facility. If she could start a fire, the alarm should go off and the building would fill with brave, wonderful, _human_ first responders. The vamps would still be asleep and Sookie would be rescued.

She had to start a fire, but she didn't have matches, a lighter or a damn Boy Scout. After a long pause, Sookie picked up a steak knife and approached the Wii with a determined look.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Hello faithful readers! Thank you for all your kind words and support. Sookie appreciates your concerns over fire safety! I will try to post more regularly. Thanks again._

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Sam drove back down the parish road with the heater cranked until Luna stopped shivering. His mind buzzed with the meaning of their find in the woods. Why would a shifter be sneaking around Sookie's place within hours of her death? Between Luna and himself they knew nearly every pure shifter in Northern Louisiana. There weren't that many. He hadn't recognized the scent in the clearing at all. They needed to do some investigation and quick. He knew there was more to this than Bill Compton told Jason.

Sam's cell phone rang. He recognized the number and after a moment he picked it up.

"Sam," the voice said urgently. "This is Alcide Herveaux. We need to talk."

"Alcide," Sam said briefly. The short but intense history shared by the two men made Sam cautious. The beating death of Marcus Bozeman, Luna's ex and the Shreveport packmaster, had been sparked by Marcus and his thugs murdering Sam's brother. Sam had taken his revenge but Alcide struck the blow that killed Marcus. So the Were had accepted the responsibility of quietly disposing of the body. Sam didn't know what the fallout had been in the wolfpack but so far there had been no repercussions for himself or for Alcide. Was that about to change?

"Is it true? Is Sookie dead?" Alcide demanded abruptly.

Whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been this. "Yeah, it's true." Sam said slowly. "I'm sorry man, I know you were close."

Sam heard the Were curse, low and vicious. "Eric said she was but I didn't know whether to believe him because he was trying to kill me at the time."

"Eric Northman? Why the hell was he trying to kill you? What's that got to do with Sookie?" Sam knew the blond vampire had been seeing Sookie recently. Northman had come to the bar a few times to pick her up from work. Damn it, he'd known vampires were going to get her killed! "Alcide, if you know who did it, you gotta tell me. They've got to pay for this," he snarled.

"Sam, it's a long story. I know it's a vamp and he's ancient and fucking powerful. Even Eric's really no match for him. You _do not _want to get involved."

"Too late. Sookie was family. I'm already in it," Sam said flatly. He felt Luna tensing beside him but hoped she would understand. By now he'd reached the bar and he pulled in alongside his trailer. "A vamp might be involved but there was a shifter there, too. I scented one this morning and they were on her land in the last 18 hours. It's nobody I knew." Then he realized something that had been hovering in the back of his mind since he'd gotten out of his car back at Sookie's house; something nearly cloaked by the stink of the fire and brought into focus by talking to Alcide. "I think there was a Were around, too. Why would one be after Sookie?"

A growl echoed into the phone. "Goddamn Edgington and his drugged-up wolves! I should have known they weren't all dead." Alcide sighed heavily. "Look, Sam. Northman is after me and my Dad for reasons I don't have time to explain. I'm going to be on the move for awhile. But I'll try to find out who the wolf was. You do the same with the shifter. When I get the chance, I'll call you. I'm going to ditch this phone, so you won't be able to reach me. If you find out anything, leave a message with a guy named Hollis at Lou Pine's in Jackson. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. I just don't understand it. Are you talking about Edgington the vampire? Isn't he dead? And he worked with werewolves? Christ, Alcide! What kind of shit were you and Sookie into?" Sam couldn't stop all the questions. He didn't understand why Sookie hadn't confided in him. Luna watched him anxiously and he couldn't reassure her this time.

"I said I don't have time and I mean it. Yeah, it's Edgington and he ain't dead. That's all I can say right now, except check on the shifter but do it real quiet." Alcide ended the conversation with a quick "Watch your back, Sam."

For a couple of long minutes, Sam sat in stunned silence trying to process all he'd heard. Finally he turned to Luna. "Go on inside and call Suzanne and Emory. See if they know of any new shifters, or one who'd be for sale to a vamp or a Were for something dirty." Such a hookup was extremely rare and likely to be noted if it not kept very secret.

Luna nodded. She didn't know what this was all about but it was dangerous and it looked like it had already cost Sookie Stackhouse her life. Luna loved Sam but she had to think of her daughter, too. Thank goodness Emma was spending a week with her grandfather in New Mexico. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to talk to Jason and he'd better be ready to get his head out of his ass about Sookie's murder," Sam swore. He saw the look of worry on Luna's face. It was a miracle their relationship had survived the death of her violent former husband. He didn't want to bring more trouble to their door but Sookie had once meant everything to him. He couldn't let her down now. "I'll be careful. Don't tell the others any more than you have to." Sam leaned over and kissed Luna passionately on the mouth, promising they had a future no matter what happened. Then Luna got out and he drove away.

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Sookie sat in the middle of a snake pit of wires and cables. She'd dismantled the Wii, the plasma TV and every other electronic device she could find. She had been trying to spark a fire by stripping wires and crossing circuits all day. Damn government safety regulations. She couldn't even blow up cheap Chinese crap. She'd been willing to risk electrocution to get one little flame!

She hoped a fire would set off the alarm but depended on the sprinklers to put it out before she burned up. She had a pile of water-soaked towels on hand to put over her face to protect herself from smoke. But her precautions were useless unless she actually started a fire, damn it.

There was very little made of wood that she could use. The table and chairs were massive and impossible for her to break apart. Then she remembered the closet with the clothes provided by the vamps. She raced over to the wardrobe. Wooden hangers! No Mommy Dearest issues here. She ripped outfits off the hangers and with little effort pulled out the crossbars until she had several short pieces of wood.

Now she just had to rub two sticks together until she got a spark. At least that was the theory. With her "disability" Girl Scouts had been out of the question. Her childhood camping trips had been organized, well supplied affairs with matches and lighter fluid on hand for campfires. She really had no idea how to do this.

Sookie took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. She was running out of time.

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Driving east to Jackson, Alcide rubbed at the generous stubble on his square jaw and grimly reflected on what Sam had told him.

_Goddammit to hell! _

Sookie was dead and no matter how he looked at it, he bore some responsibility. He should have known his dad couldn't resist a determined buyer. In retrospect it had to have been someone connected with Edgington. Alcide berated himself for not checking out the developer more closely when they didn't take no for an answer. Maybe Sookie would still be alive. He couldn't really blame Northman for wanting his blood, but he wouldn't allow his dad to pay the price. No matter what he'd done, Jackson was still his father.

Grief and guilt boiled up out of him. He threw back his head and howled, mourning his loss deep and loud. Whatever possibility there had been for him and Sookie, however remote, was gone forever.

He breathed heavily as the last note faded away, but his mind felt a bit clearer. Alcide returned his focus to the road ahead of him. He'd be at his dad's place soon.

His cell phone rang and he picked it up. "Hollis," Alcide acknowledged quickly. "Are we set?"

"Yeah, man. Cabin's ready anytime. I ain't been up there since Memorial Day but there should be some supplies left. Remember there's no power, just the wood stove and a couple of bunks. The key's in the same place, under the rock in front of the porch steps."

"Can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Hollis. I know I called up out of the blue needing a big favor."

"I got your back. Don't matter if you move to Shreveport or the fuckin' moon, your're still pack," Hollis assured him. Then he said, "Have to admit, the fact that you got a vamp on your tail did make me think. This connected to the shit that went down with that asshole Cooter last year?"

"It's probably better you don't know too much, Hollis. But I have another favor," Alcide said reluctantly. "Someone may leave a message for me with you. His name is Sam Merlotte. He owns a bar in Bon Temps, south of Shreveport. He's a shifter and he's cool. I'll try to check in regular."

"I've been to Merlotte's. He's a shifter, huh?" Hollis grunted in surprise. "That explains a few things I've heard." His voice turned hard. "Now you listen to me, Alcide. There's a few things you need to know about the pack in Jackson these days. Colonel Flood's not packmaster anymore. Nobody had confidence in him after he let members of the pack get hooked on V and start genuflecting to a fuckin' vamp. Carter Jantzen challenged him about six months ago and won. You remember him?"

"He and his cousins have a short haul trucking company just this side of Jackson, right? He was a couple of years ahead of me in school. Biggest and meanest SOB to play ball for the Jackson Jaguars."

"Yeah, that's him. He's still big, tough but smart, too. Carter's laid down the law, Alcide. Nobody fools with the vamps, not even for business. Nobody. Your dad wasn't too happy about that and he wasn't quiet about it, either. He kind of made it clear he thought he should have been packmaster after Flood; that Carter's too young."

"That's Dad, alright," Alcide sighed. "Winning friends and influencing people the Jackson Herveaux way. Don't worry. I'll be taking him out of town with me."

"People know what your Dad's like; it's not that. Carter's been "cleaning up" after Flood and Cooter, as he puts it." Hollis said.

"Don't go all cryptic on me, Hollis," Alcide growled. "Just spit it out."

"Carter and his enforcers have been hunting down and executing all the wolves that were running with Coot's pack. No exceptions." Hollis paused for a long moment. "I know you and Debbie got back together and that she said she was sober but she's on Carter's list. If she comes back here, she's dead."

"She's dead to me anyway. She's on her own. I abjured her." Alcide heard his friend's quick intake of breath. "And I don't want to talk about it. But I do want to know more about Carter's little hit squad. You in on that, Hollis?"

"It makes sense, Alcide. Those V-heads went totally apeshit after Coot died and that vamp disappeared. There's no reasoning with them. We can never trust them, even if they got clean."

"That doesn't mean they all deserve to die," Alcide snapped, shoving thoughts of Debbie and her betrayal aside. "Have you tracked down all of Cooter's group? Are any of them still running around loose?" He remembered the wolf Sam had scented at Sookie's.

"We got a lot of them," Hollis said coldly, resenting Alcide's attitude. "The last one we took down, Teddy Rackland, said his brother Milton and a coupla dozen others have formed up somewhere with big plans for a comeback. Don't know whether to believe him. Without Coot, these assholes didn't have sense enough to come in out of the rain. There wasn't an alpha among 'em.

Who's leading and where would they get enough V for that many wolves?" Alcide pictured Hollis shaking his head. "We're checking but Carter thinks Rackland was just telling us what he thought we wanted to hear. Didn't help him in the end, though."

"Never pegged you for an executioner, Hollis." Alcide said at last.

"Never say never, Alcide. You know that," his friend answered and hung up.

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Jason sat alone in his living room, his cell phone and a to-do list in front of him. He had a driving need to complete Sookie's funeral arrangements. He felt it's what she would have wanted.

But the coroner's report wouldn't be final for several more days, especially with a lack of solid human remains. Andy assured Jason this was just a formality and a funeral could be held soon. The preliminary cause and origin investigation indicated the propane tank failed due to age and wear. Jason knew differently, but said nothing even when the fire investigator hinted that a good brother would have maintained the equipment better. He wondered briefly if Bill had anything to do with the report's mundane conclusion.

Jason stared at the room around him which was largely unchanged since his parents' death nearly twenty years before. His gaze fell on a framed picture hanging near the fireplace. Gran had given it to him the first Christmas after he moved back into this house when he was eighteen. A typical family grouping taken at the JC Penny's portrait studio in Ruston, it included Gran, Jason, Sookie, Aunt Linda and their cousin Hadley. The gift had been a not-so-subtle reminder that Jason was still the member of a family and his behavior affected others besides himself.

Jason sighed heavily. He was the only one left from the picture. Gran had passed; Aunt Linda died of cancer; Hadley had run away from that rehab center, disappearing back into the dark and dangerous world of drugs. Everyone assumed she was dead. And now Sookie was gone, too. He really was alone.

A knock at the door interrupted his depressing thoughts. He wondered who it was. He hadn't heard any cars and he lived too far off the road for casual walk-up visitors. Like an old man, he pushed himself out of the recliner and went to open the door.

"Jason, let me in. Now!" His cousin Hadley pushed her way past him into the house. She looked over her shoulder as if she was pursued by demons then shut the door quickly and leaned against it. She stared at him with wide eyes.

Jason wondered wildly whether he had summoned her with his own thoughts. "Holy shit," he breathed. "Where the hell did you come from? We all thought you was dead!"

Hadley, blond and pretty in a baby doll sort of way, looked sharply at him in his uniform. "When did you become a cop?" She waved her hand as if to dismiss that thought for a more important one. "Didn't Sookie tell you that I came back to see her last year?"

"Sookie didn't say nothing." Jason shook his head. This was too much. "You know Sook's dead now, right?" he said, more bluntly than he might have under other circumstances.

As if the air had gone out of her, Hadley walked over to the couch and sank into it. "I heard about the explosion, and that they thought she was home at the time. I hoped...," she trailed off.

"Yeah," sighed Jason and sat down beside her. "We all did."

He eyed his cousin closely. Although she was thinner than he remembered, she dressed nice, like a salesgirl at the mall. She didn't seem ready to jump out of her skin and she hadn't asked him for money yet. "You off the junk now, Hadley?"

Hadley gave a not-quite laugh. "I've been clean for a couple of years now, Jason. There were...other reasons I didn't come home."

"Other reasons more important than Gran's funeral?" Jason accused. "You dropped off the face of the earth after you ran away from that rehab center."

"I didn't know Gran was gone until it was too late. I'll always feel bad about that. She was good to me, even when I didn't deserve it." Hadley sighed. "I was pretty dumb. I told Sookie when I saw her..." she trailed off.

"Jason, did you...," Hadley stopped again. "Have you ever heard of Russell Edgington?"

"Uh sure," Jason answered, confused by this topic. "He's the vamp that tore the guy's spine out on TV. SNL did a take on it that was pretty funny."

Hadley huffed impatiently. "Russell Edgington was a three-thousand-year-old vampire. If you laughed at him, he'd rip your throat out!"

"Why're you talking about this guy anyway? That lady vamp on TV said he killed himself." Jason's suspicions spiked. "What are you doing here Hadley?" He knew an addict would work lots of angles to get what they wanted.

"Oh my God, Jason. Just listen to me!" Hadley's intensity reminded him suddenly of the junkie she had been. "Did vampires have anything to do with Sookie's death?"

He hadn't expected this. "Maybe," he said cautiously. "Bill told me he knew who was behind it but the killer at the scene kinda...burst into flames before he and Eric could stop him. Then the house blew up." Even to his own ears it sounded incredible. "You may not believe all this..."

Hadley gestured sharply, cutting off her cousin. "I know a hell of a lot more about vampires than you, Jason!" She shook her head. "So you're telling me that Bill Compton, King of Louisiana and Sheriff Eric Northman were there when Sookie died?" She got up abruptly. "And I was afraid I'd bring danger to _your_ door."

Hadley paced the small living room furiously until Jason jumped up and grabbed her shoulders. "Damn it, woman! Just sit down and tell me what the hell is going on! Where've you been? What do you know about Bill and Eric? And why the fuck are you showing up just now when Sook's dead." He shook his cousin, hard. "I swear to God, Hadley if I find out you had anything to do with this, you'll be lucky if you ever make it to a jail cell!"

Hadley burst into tears and for a few awkward minutes, Jason tried anything he could to end his cousin's crying. Finally, she hiccupped to a stop. He handed her a box of tissues. While she mopped her face, he fixed her with his best lawman's stare. "Now, I want the truth, girl. The whole truth and nothing else."

"I really never pictured you as a cop, Jason." Hadley sniffled. He growled a little to signify his patience was at an end. "Okay," she sighed. "I'll tell you everything but it's kind of complicated."

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Luna sat in Sam's trailer and stared blankly at the wall in shock from what she'd learned. Suzanne had known nothing of any new shifters and seemed offended to be asked if she knew of one capable of being hired to commit a crime. Emory, however, had the information she was looking for.

"I don't know of anybody new," Emory said thoughtfully. "But if there's something dirty going on, I may have a candidate. I know a shifter over in Texarkana; a real good guy, ex-military, works for the Texas Rangers now. He had a nice family, pretty wife; two little girls. A few years ago, they got hit by a terrible tragedy. The youngest died, the older one started having lots of problems. She got into trouble; drugs, fights, gangs, ran away a lot. The family tried to get her help but she disappeared when she 17. With his law enforcement contacts, James got wind of stuff she was involved in. She got into some deep shit and apparently now she's gone professional." Emory concluded, "She may be who you're looking for."

"My God," Luna breathed. With a daughter of her own, this sounded like her worst nightmare. "What's her name, Emory?"

"Francie Devore," he answered. "And Luna, there's something else you need to know. The youngest daughter, the one who died? She was shot accidentally by her older sister. That's what started Francie's downward spiral. But after what you told us a few weeks ago, I think Francie's using what happened to her advantage. I'm pretty sure she's a skinwalker."

Luna remembered, after the initial shock of turning into her own mother wore off, the seductive idea of using the skinwalker ability for her own benefit. In the end, she'd been too frightened to do it anymore, but she could easily have stepped over the line.

Luna's intuition told her Francie Devore was the one they'd scented in the woods. If Devore really was a skinwalker, it could change everything. She had to tell Sam.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Holiday craziness and real life idiocy have kept me from writing and posting as I wanted to. I apologize to and thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited or PM'd in the past few weeks. I will do my best to keep up from here on.

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Hadley's tale was so bizarre that if Jason hadn't lived through the last two years in Bon Temps, he never would have believed it.

"So you hooked up with the vampire Queen of Louisiana and Bill was the one who introduced you?" The thing that surprised Jason the most so far was that his cousin ended up with another woman-the same cousin who had slept her way through most of the boys' sport teams of Bon Temps High School.

"After I left rehab, I felt like I was a waste of space. I was taking anything and everything to make the pain go away. I even got hooked on V." Hadley's gaze met Jason's, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"One night, I met Bill Compton," she continued. "He bought me some drinks and I told him a lot about myself. He said he knew someone who'd like to meet me, who'd give me whatever I wanted if we hit it off. At the time, it sounded like a good deal and he took me to meet the Queen."

"What was she like?" Jason asked, fascinated despite himself.

Hadley was silent for a minute. "Beautiful. Stranger and crazier than you can possibly imagine. She could be generous and funny, then turn around to rip someone's head off. Literally. We played a lot of Yahtzee." Hadley smiled, which faded quickly. "She was really lonely." Jason got the feeling that Hadley had been more than a little in love with Sophie Anne.

"You can't imagine what it's like when you get so deep into that world." Hadley's expression said that she was seeing something far removed from Jason's small living room. "Your human life just fades away. There was no way I could come back. Even after I got sober, I figured I'd either be drained or turned into one of them." Hadley laughed a little. "Then Russell Edgington and Eric Northman came and turned everything upside down."

Jason brushed aside all the political vampire crap. He didn't get human politics most of the time. Coerced royal marriages, vampires selling their own blood and the idea that every state had a vampire King or Queen was too much for him. He briefly wondered if Jessica knew all this. "You said you were here last year to see Sookie. She didn't tell me for some reason, but why did you come back? You just said it wasn't an option."

"I'll tell you but I could really use something to drink. You got sweet tea or a Coke?" Hadley looked wrung out. Jason nodded and got a can of Coke out of the fridge, bringing it and a glass of ice back for his cousin. She poured out the soda and drank thirstily. "Thanks." Hadley sighed and ran her fingernail around the lip of the glass. "I came because Eric Northman sent me to warn Sook. Eric was playing some sort of game with Russell Edgington, I don't know what. But he wanted Sookie to know Russell was coming after her. I think Russell wanted her for the same reason Sophie Anne did. The telepathy and the daywalking. I felt so horrible that Sookie was in trouble because it was all my fault. So I warned her, told her she was in danger and to get out."

"But nothing happened then. Russell didn't get her," he pointed out. "She disappeared and went to that Fairy place."

Jason had the pleasure of seeing Hadley's jaw drop for once. "Mother of God, so it's true? Sookie really is a fairy? And there's a place where fairies live? Is that where she was when you were looking for her?"

"Yeah, there are really fairies and yes, she went off with them for awhile." Jason waved this off impatiently. It was old news to him. "She said time's different there somehow. She thought it was a few minutes but she was gone for a whole year." Jason didn't mention Grandaddy Earl. It didn't seem like the right time.

"I thought Russell had killed her," Hadley said softly. "I thought it was all my fault. I saw you on TV, looking for her. You were so scared and sad." She began crying again, but the tears slid silently down her cheeks. "I checked your website all the time, but I knew you'd never find her because she was dead."

"You never called or e-mailed," Jason grated. "You could have told me, dammit!"

"But it wasn't true! She was off with the fairies, not drained to death by Russell Edgington," Hadley yelled then clapped her hands over her mouth. She wished she could take back the words as soon as she said them.

"Well, she'd dead now, Hadley! And I think you know something about it!" Jason thought he might hit his cousin if he didn't move away from her, so he did.

"I was afraid." Hadley's voice was so quiet, he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"What?"

"I was afraid," she said more clearly. "Russell killed the guy on TV and then disappeared. Sookie went missing. Sophie Anne was dead and Bill Compton was suddenly King." She added tonelessly, "Did you know it's a vampire tradition to kill the human favorites of the old King or Queen when a new one takes over?"

Jason didn't know what to say.

"For a year we...I...hid, trying to stay out of sight. Then I saw on your website that Sookie was back. I couldn't believe it. I was so happy and relieved." Hadley gave a watery smile, then let out a quavery breath. "It still took awhile for me to believe it was safe to see her."

"Then the news reported the explosion and that Sook was missing. I was too late. But I knew I couldn't stand by this time. Russell Edgington did this. I never believed he committed suicide, it's not his style." Hadley's voice turned hard. "Now I have a question for you, Jason."

"Okay," he shrugged.

"If Sookie was murdered by a vampire why do you trust other vampires to bring him to justice? You used to get in a fight every week at school to protect Sookie from bullies. Why aren't you fighting for her now?"

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Sookie's shoulders and wrists ached from rubbing the sticks together for what seemed like hours. She'd generated heat and scorch marks a few times but no flame. Sweat beaded her face. Her head pounded from fear and effort. This had to work!

The digital clock said 4:15pm. Sookie couldn't believe it had gotten so late so fast. Maybe she shouldn't have taken time out to work on her backup plan, but that was only a last resort. It would be dark in less than 60 minutes and the vamps would wake. Her mind wandered as she sawed desperately back and forth with the wood. Fires broke out in buildings all the time. Why couldn't she be so lucky? In fact, a nursing home had burned down a few weeks ago in Monroe, although the fatalities had been from smoke inhalation rather than burns.

_Smoke inhalation. It was a smoke alarm, not a fire alarm! _

She didn't have to start a fire as long as she could get enough smoke. She had a brief memory of Jason burning toast at home and the black, acrid smoke billowing into the kitchen. She ran to the toaster, stuffed in bread and a cloth napkin for good measure, then hit the plunger. She carried the appliance toward the smoke alarm as far as the cord would reach. After a couple of minutes smoke began to snake upward. She made sure she had pushed it to the darkest setting. She tried to fan the smoke toward the alarm.

Thick, dark smoke began to pour out of the toaster. It got so hot, she had to set it down on the floor. The carpet itself began to smoulder. For what seemed like an eternity nothing happened. The alarm remained stubbornly silent. Sookie's shoulders slumped. This had been her last, best idea. Soon the vampires would be up and see that she had tried to escape; she didn't think they would give her another chance.

A high-pitched electronic shriek made her jump several inches in the air. The lighted square high up on the wall strobed in time to the piercing alarm.

Sookie thought it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

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Hadley's question made Jason uncomfortable. If there was one constant in his life, it was fighting to protect his sister. "You don't know Bill like I do. He loves Sookie a lot. He's a good guy for a vampire." Jason wasn't sure who he was trying to convince. "I went to see him and he told me what happened. I was really mad at first but then...," he trailed off.

"Then what, Jason?" Hadley prompted.

It all seemed a little fuzzy. Probably the shock and grief, he told himself. "Uh, Bill told me he'd take care of things. Jessica came in while we talked, and she brought me home. That was it."

"Who's Jessica?"

"She's a vampire. Bill's kid, you know, his prodigy." Jason was relieved Hadley moved on to another topic.

"His progeny." Hadley looked at her cousin speculatively. "Do you have a thing for her?"

"I don't know. Maybe." He hated sounding defensive but the whole mess with him, Jessica and Hoyt was a total cluster fuck. "She gave me her blood a couple of times when I was hurt. Why?"

"She gave you her blood? God, that settles it." Hadley put her hands on Jason's shoulders and peered into his eyes. "I think you've been glamoured, Jason. And I think your vamp girlfriend did it."

"What?" Jason reared back like he'd been stabbed. "No! She wouldn't do that. I mean, why would she?" Then he remembered sitting in the back of his truck pleading for her to glamour him after they'd had sex, so he could face his best friend. Hoyt, in one of his crying fits, admitted he thought Jessica might have altered his memories at some point because she acted so guilty around him.

"She would if Bill asked her to. He's her maker. And vamps don't like humans getting involved in what they regard as their private business. Like a fight with Russell Edgington." Hadley shook her head. "You can't really trust any vampire, no matter how well you think you know them."

Jason kept trying to remember details of that night at Bill's but they remained stubbornly vague. He remembered only that he could trust Bill to take care of Sookie's murderer and that he was to make her funeral arrangements. God, how could Jessica do that to him over something like Sookie's death? He felt violated by her manipulation. Was everything he felt for her just a lie?

Though the haze of anger and disappointment, he heard Hadley's last comment, saying bitterly, "The only vampire I'd trust now is dead. I met him in Dallas. He liked humans, and thought vampires should act better so we could all get along. His name was Godric."

Hadley raised an eyebrow. "Boy, you really do get around. He was a sheriff in Texas, right? Sophie Anne mentioned that he'd gone missing at some point. Then we heard he turned up, only to willingly meet the sun. She thought he was crazy."

"He wasn't crazy! He was just tired, and disappointed in both vampires and humans. He was over 2000 years old, you know." Jason was surprised at the memories coming back now that he thought of Godric. The kindness in the vampire's eyes had been ages deep. Godric's simple forgiveness had helped Jason to heal somehow from the madness the Fellowship tried to plant inside him.

Slowly, as if struck by sudden thought, Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it up, he withdrew a business card. Although it was made of thick, expensive cardstock, it had only a single name printed in a fancy script. _Isabel Beaumont, Consultant. _On the back was a handwritten phone number.

He remembered, in the short time before the bomb went off, Isabel coming up to him. She was still visibly upset from the scene over her human lover Hugo, but she summoned a smile and handed him the card. "Godric meant it when he said you have friends here. I do this at his request. If you are ever in need of help, you may reach me at the number on the back. Good fortune to you, Mr. Stackhouse." Then she turned away, and a few minutes later, Luke had walked in and blown the place to hell.

Jason had stuck the card in his wallet and never looked at it again. He'd wanted to forget how far off the rails he'd gone in Dallas.

He stared at it now as if it could tell him what to do. "Look, if this Edgington really is the one who killed Sookie, that means the head vampires lied or at least made a mistake telling everybody he killed himself. Things have just started to settle down a little bit for the vamps since the thing on TV and if he comes back, it's going to get really bad for them." He showed the card to Hadley. "So maybe someone needs to know about this other than Bill Compton."

"Okay, I meant what I said about not trusting Compton. I thought since you were a cop, you'd go to the police and get them involved. I didn't mean to go sticking your hand in a rattlesnake nest," Hadley protested. "And that's what you'll be doing if you go over the head of the King of Louisiana to some vamp in Texas."

"The cops already got their official story, probably straight from Bill. Who knows who else he glamoured? I doubt I could even get 'em to listen to me now." Jason had a hard look about him Hadley didn't recognize. "I just want to make sure the fucker who killed my sister goes up in flames, preferably screaming. And I want to be there when it happens. Compton's cutting me out of the loop. I think going to Isabel is my best chance. And if Edgington is really as old and powerful as you say, it's going to take more than one vamp to bring him down."

Jason looked around the room and noticed how long the shadows had grown while they talked. Dark came quickly this time of year. He switched on a couple of table lamps. "The vamps should be waking up pretty soon," Jason said.

"You're going to call them tonight?" Hadley exclaimed.

"Why wait?" Now that he had a game plan, Jason was anxious to get started. "One thing I've learned from _CSI_-I mean being a cop- is that the first 48 hours after a crime is the best time to find clues. Vamp crimes ain't likely to be any different. No sense in letting the trail get any colder than it already is."

"Fine." Hadley gave in. "But keep my name out of it. Please? It still might not be safe for me." She looked nervous. "I'm going to need to leave soon."

Her concern seemed overblown to Jason. Sookie had been the target, not Hadley. "Yeah, sure." He shrugged. "You know you're welcome to stay the night," he offered hesitantly. "I don't want to lose touch again. You really are the only family I got left now."

Tears pooled in Hadley's eyes again and she gave Jason a quick hug. Then she looked out the window. It was completely dark outside. Hadley's anxiety returned. "It's been good seeing you Jason, but I really gotta get."

"No! Please, just stay while I call Texas," Jason exclaimed. "I won't mention you, but they might have questions you can help me answer. If you don't want to stay the night, I'll drive you back to your car." He looked at her. "You musta walked over cause I never heard an engine."

"Oh, all right," Hadley grumbled. "I'll stay while you call but then you've gotta take me back."

"It's a deal," Jason agreed, relieved. Calling the Texas vampires unnerved him more than he wanted to admit. "Okay, here goes nothin'." He got out the business card and dialed. As the line connected, he wondered what on earth he would say.

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Jessica woke up with a sense of dread but couldn't immediately remember why. Then it came to her. Russell Edgington was back to screw up her life. Again. Bill had gone off to save the world and left her at home, with a list of warnings and commandments as long as her arm. Again.

She knew she had to stay away from Jason even though she yearned to see him and make sure he was okay.

Well, she had one thing to look forward to. She was meeting E tonight. Jessica had never met anyone as glamorous and sophisticated as the mysterious black-haired, green eyed vampire; who insisted she was called simply "E". E had caught Jessica's attention one night at Fangtasia's but insisted they meet and talk elsewhere. Jessica was fascinated by the elegant, charming woman, so different than the usual visitors to the bar. She was even more surprised and flattered by the vampire's interest in herself.

Over the next several weeks the vampires met for coffee, attended a Ingmar Bergman film festival, and went shopping at the best stores in Shreveport. Jessica had never talked so much about herself, her human family and especially the complicated relationship with her maker. E seemed especially interested in what Bill had done since he became King. Something inside Jessica seemed to unfold and come to life for the first time due to E's attention. Here was another female vampire who was well-traveled, confident, and seemed to have experienced everything Jessica wanted out of her undead life.

Jessica never questioned why E made sure that Jessica went to Fangtasia, stayed a short time and then left with a different fangbanger each night. The vampires then glamoured the human, fed together and sent the victim away with an implanted memory of hot sex to satisfy him or her. The rest of the evening belonged to Jessica and E.

Tonight, E had invited Jessica to the condo where she was staying for the first time. Jessica couldn't wait, but she was also a little nervous. It had taken awhile, but Jessica had realized that there was an undercurrent of attraction between E and herself. It went against everything she'd learned as a sheltered home-schooled Christian girl, but thoughts of the forbidden excited Jessica's vampire desires.

As she carefully chose her prettiest lingerie, Jessica wondered why she also felt a shiver of dread about the coming night.

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The phone was answered on the third ring.

"Isabel Beaumont's line," a male voice drawled. "Who's calling please?"

"Um...," Jason cleared his throat. "This here's Jason Stackhouse and Miss Isabel gave me her number when we were in Dallas during that Fellowship thing. She said that Godric told her I should call if I ever needed some help."

There was silence for a minute, then the voice said, "Just one moment, I'll see if she's available."

Another long pause was followed by the musically accented voice that Jason remembered. "Mr. Stackhouse? This is Isabel Beaumont. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Hey...uh, I guess you remember me, right? You gave me your card in Dallas?" Jason was fumbling terribly now that he had the vampire on the line.

"Yes, Mr. Stackhouse, I recall. I provided you with the phone number you're calling right now." Isabel was quite patient. "I hope you and your sister are well?"

"Sookie got killed last night," Jason blurted out. "And vampires did it."

"Ah." Jason had a feeling that a thousand unspoken words were contained in that one syllable. Then the vampire said carefully, "I'm very sorry to hear of your sister's death. She was a brave and loyal friend to our kind." After a moment she continued, "But why do you think vampires were involved? What do the police say?"

"I'm a deputy sheriff here and the cops think she died when her house blew up. But Bill Compton told me a vamp did it. He told me some other stuff except he glamoured me so I don't remember it all. And I got a, a source," he looked at Hadley. "that tells me Russell Edgington is probably the one behind it. He was after Sookie last year, too."

"Russell Edgington committed suicide after attacking that unfortunate human," Isabel recited.

"Do you really believe that?" Jason asked.

"The AVL made the announcement after a complete investigation."

"But do _you_ believe that?" Jason insisted.

The silence on the other end of the line was so complete Jason wondered if she had hung up. Finally the Texas vampire said softly, "No, I do not. But he was gone and it was what people needed to hear."

Isabel's voice took on a gentle, persuasive tone. "Mr. Stackhouse, what proof do you have for such an unlikely scenario? Why would Russell Edgington want to kill your sister? Didn't she disappear last year only to turn up a few weeks ago? No offense but might she not have been unhappy, and arranged all this so nobody would look for her this time?"

Something stopped Jason from saying anything about Sookie being a fairy, even to Isabel. "How did you know that Sookie was gone?" The idea that the Texas vampires had been keeping track of his sister made him uneasy. Hadley's alarmed expression underscored his feeling.

"Your sister's talent is rare and useful. She was the human lover of a vampire who rose very suddenly to become King of Louisiana and then she vanished. Of course we were interested," Isabel said pleasantly. "Your website was very helpful in keeping us up to date on your efforts to find her. We were relieved to hear she was back and curious about where she'd been."

Again, an unaccustomed caution filled Jason. "She went someplace to be safe from vampires like Edgington for awhile. But Sookie was happy to be home. She'd never leave on her own."

"What do you want from me, Mr. Stackhouse? If your own King-I mean if Bill Compton has decided it is not advisable to involve you, why would I go against that?" For the first time, Isabel sounded like her patience was running out. "Why should I risk conflict at a time when vampires must present a united front to the human public?"

Jason had had enough of the vampire politics that already cost his sister her life. "I want justice for Sookie. I know Russell Edgington did it. This guy is old and powerful and Bill told me he's using magic now, too. It's going to be bad for vamps and humans." Jason tried to think what he could say to persuade his listener, who in reality, was as alien to him as any Martian. "I want everybody and their mama after this fucker, and I want in on the kill. Godric was all about working together to help each other. This is one of those times, Isabel."

He waited to hear the vampire's response, watching as Hadley wandered to the window and looked out, her face tense. Then his cousin opened the door a few inches. She tilted her head as if listening for something, and her expression said she didn't like what she heard.

Isabel finally spoke. "I must do some checking of my own, Jason. I'll contact you regarding what can be done but I promise that if we do go after Russell, you will be with us."

Jason wasn't quite sure he was satisfied with this but he was distracted by Hadley's frightened expression. "Jason, do you hear howling?" she hissed from the doorway.

"What?" he said. "No. Hush up, I'm still on the phone," he snapped and spoke to Isabel. "When will you get back to me?"

Isabelle, confused by the two conversations, said "Who's there with you? Is something wrong?" She heard a door slam and a woman scream Jason's name. Violent snarls and then howling echoed through the receiver. Jason swore viciously and Isabel heard a gunshot. More growls and screams followed, then silence.

The vampire called Jason's name over and over, but there was no response.

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Sam drove down Jason's gravel driveway a little faster than he should. The late afternoon shadows had passed into full darkness. His Suburban bumped and rattled over the rough road, the headlights bouncing up and down across the trees that lined both sides. Jason apparently had neglected his home maintenance since he became a deputy.

Skidding to a stop in front of the house Sam jumped out, revved up for a confrontation with Sookie's brother. Jason's truck sat over to the side. Good, he was home. Jason had damn well be ready to do something more than spout the party line from Bill Compton. Fist raised to pound on the front door, Sam was startled when it swung open on its own.

"Jason?" Sam called, taking a step inside. He didn't see anyone. "It's Sam Merlotte. We need to talk." For the first time, he stopped to take a deep breath. A chill ran down his spine. _Werewolves. _Their musky scent permeated the house. Several of them had been here within the last couple of hours. His instincts told him he was alone now. Sam looked around, noticing overturned furniture and a broken lamp. Under the wolf stench was the acrid smell of gunfire and fear.

_What in God's name had happened here? Where was Jason now? Were they being targeted one by one?_

His cell phone rang, interrupting his scrambling thoughts. He grabbed it from his pocket. "Luna!" He exclaimed. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Luna's voice was startled. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"Jason's gone and there's signs of a fight at his house. And I smell wolves." Sam heard Luna's gasp of shock. "I was worried."

"Sam, you need to get out of there. Now!" Luna urged. "One of the Weres may come back."

"I don't think so." Sam had been carefully searching the rest of the house as they spoke. "I think whoever it was is long gone." He wondered what he should do now. Call the police? Would Andy Bellefleur believe werewolves had taken Jason? He sniffed again, and felt a small bit of relief. He didn't detect the reek of death.

"Sam, I need to tell you what I found out." Luna's voice pulled him back. "I talked to Emory and he thought he knew who the shifter might be. It's a girl named Francie Devore. She's a professional for hire and has done some terrible things."

"Damn. How do we find her?" Sam asked.

"Emory didn't know, but he did say that she had accidentally killed her little sister." Luna paused, "He thinks she's a skinwalker."

"A skinwalker!" Sam's mind went blank for a minute. "Why would a vamp need a skinwalker-and a Were-to kill a human?"

"It doesn't make sense." Luna admitted. "I've been trying to figure it out ever since Emory told me. An outright hit wouldn't require nearly that much muscle to kill Sookie, even if it had to take place in daylight."

Sam sometimes forgot that beneath her school teacher and devoted mother exterior, Luna had a ruthlessly practical streak that had helped her survive her troubled past. She was right. "I'm going to head back home," he said. "I want to try to talk to Alcide about all this. Maybe he knows where the wolves would take Jason."

There was a quick intake of breath from Luna, making Sam pause as he got in the car. "Sam," she breathed, as if afraid to say the words aloud, "what if the vamp didn't need the skinwalker to kill Sookie. What if he needed her to _be_ Sookie?"

For a few seconds, Sam didn't understand what she meant. His heart seemed to freeze in his chest, then stuttered and began to gallop wildly. "You think the death was faked? Sookie could still be _alive_?"

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Isabelle, deeply worried, hung up the phone in her office in Dallas. A tall Asian vampire standing in the doorway came to attention when her gaze fell on him. "Hiro, set a meeting for all the sheriffs immediately. Get everyone on video conference if necessary. We have much to discuss."

"Right away," the vampire bowed and blurred out to fulfill Isabelle's instructions. She turned to the windows of her office and looked out into the darkness made pale by the brilliantly lit Dallas skyline. Russell Edgington was back.

Now there would be war.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: Thanks to everyone for their continued interest in the story. Enjoy this installment. More to come shortly. _

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Eric screamed. Unbearable agony seared through every joint of his arms and legs. Silver chains wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles, biting cruelly into the skin. Smoke trailed from his body and blood oozed around the shackles. But that was not the ultimate cause of his pain. The chains were linked to harnesses pulled by horses dragging his body in two different directions.

Inch by inch, Eric felt his shoulders and hips begin to dislocate. If the torturous pressure continued, he would be ripped apart. While he might be able to regrow one or even two missing limbs, his ability to survive complete dismemberment was seriously in doubt. That is, if his tormentors allowed him to survive this process.

Anguished cries tore from his throat once again. Pain flooded his whole being. He couldn't remember how he'd come here or who his torturers were. A heavy mist swirled around him. He could barely make out the horses pulling him to pieces.

Given his current condition, it was perhaps unsurprising that Eric's mind turned to his time in France during the rainy spring of 1757. Separated from Godric between mercenary engagements, he had fed and whored his way through the brothels of Paris. One day he enountered a sight extraordinary for its barbarity, even by his own standards.

A domestic servant named Robert-Francois Damiens had attempted, poorly, to assassinate King Louis XV. It had been a minor wound but the crime earned the man a savage execution. Tortured with red-hot pincers, hot lead and sulphur were poured into his wounds. The final part of the sentence was even worse. Horses harnessed to Damiens' arms and legs did not completely dismember him, and a guard finally took an ax to his limbs after hours of torment. His torso was later burned.

Eric devoutly hoped Damiens' fate would not be his own, although he was beginning to wish for an end to his punishment, no matter how it came.

The horses surged against their harness, jerking his mind back to the horrible now. Eric's joints twisted and cracked, and despite his efforts he cried out again. He tried to resist the inexorable pressure but silver chains and torture had weakened him. Above the sound of his own groans, he heard the screams of another, clearly in great pain. It sounded like a young woman. The mists parted for a moment and he saw a female fastened to a stake about two hundred feet from him. The stake was mounted on a platform and wood was piled around her feet. Black streaks marred a face contorted in agony. Stringy hair of indeterminate color whipped around her head as she struggled in her shackles. Flames began to lick up her body. She was being burned alive.

Eric had been around during the Inquisition. He knew about burning. When the method was applied with skill the victim's body would burn progressively in sequence: calves, thighs and hands; torso and forearms; breasts and upper chest and finally the face. This woman's travail was just beginning. Immersed in his own hell, Eric could only summon an abstract pity for the unfortunate. He could do nothing to help her.

The woman began to scream again, piercing shrieks that sliced into Eric's brain. He tried to shut them out but could not resist the piteous cries. Against his will, he focused on what she was saying.

Horror overwhelmed him. She was calling his name, begging Eric to save her.

He strained his head to get a better look at her. He'd thought his torture could not get worse but he was wrong.

_It was Sookie._

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Eric's mind blanked for a moment in sheer panic. He struggled madly in his chains but succeeded only in spurring the horses to greater efforts; his body bowed upward in agony.

The cloying grey mists cleared abruptly. A familiar face hove into view. Russell Edgington's self-satisfied smile made Eric growl with more rage than pain. "Let her go, you goddamn snake!"

Russell tsked and straightened up. He was dressed in one of his absurd riding costumes, complete with boots and crop. "You know I can't do that Mr. Northman. Your ladylove is already dead." He gestured with his crop to Sookie screaming as the fire licked at her legs. "Besides, she belongs to me now."

Eric thrashed again in his bonds, cursing loudly, and yearned to rip the older vampire's throat out. For just a moment, Russell strayed too close and Eric managed to slash his thigh with one fang. Russell blurred out of reach but not before bringing the whip down in a vicious swipe across Eric's face, laying open the cheek almost to the bone. Faster than even Eric expected, Russell grabbed him by the throat, holding him still.

"Tell me Sheriff, how does it feel to know that your enemy holds the life of your beloved in his hands? That she screams your name but you do not come; that she dies in alone and in agony, betrayed by the one who should have kept her safe?"

"Everything he says is a lie, my child." Eric tried to look toward the new voice, but Russell held him rigidly in place. After a moment, with a mocking laugh, Edgington let him go. Eric twisted to see Godric's pale form standing at the head of one of the horses still straining to rip his body apart. "You must not play his game," Godric said in his cool, controlled manner. "Do not let him win."

"Godric," Eric cried helplessly. "Save Sookie! Please, God, you have to help her!" Sookie's screams were now wordless shrieks of pain as the shift she was wearing began to smoulder.

"I cannot, Eric. She is already dead," Godric shook his head sorrowfully. "You must forgive yourself, for you will not save her. Make peace with your enemy. Only then will you know victory." The mist began to return, obscuring Sookie and Russell from Eric's sight. He strained to hear her cries for they were growing weaker.

A shadowed form appeared beside Godric, the face hidden in the deepening gloom. Eric's maker put a hand on the shoulder of the figure, as if in comfort. Together, Godric and the figure turned to go.

"Godric! Don't leave!" Eric shouted, as the horses started their agonizing traction once again. "Help Sookie, please!"

_"Godric, I'm begging you! Don't let her die."_

The mist covered the scene like a heavy grey blanket. Eric could no longer see his maker, Sookie or anyone else. He screamed for her over and over as the pressure on his joints reached the breaking point. Eric felt his shoulders and hips leave their sockets, tendons and ligaments tearing away from the bones.

With the last of his strength Eric whispered, _"Sookie" _and fell into darkness.

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Anton Sejour finished typing his e-mail and hit the key that would encrypt the message and send it on. The recipient would be anxiously awaiting the signal to move into position, fulfilling the next phase of Russell's plan. Another disposable tool performing his part in a production whose scope exceeded his darkest nightmares.

Anton followed Russell's orders to the letter. He was absolutely loyal and had been from the moment he awoke in a shallow grave near the smoking ruins of the _Montville_ plantation house.

Terrified and starving for something he could not name, he had clawed his way to the surface, only to see the amused face of his murderer looming over him. A part of Anton-the dying, rapidly fading human part of him-desperately wanted to run away and hide from this smiling horror. But another, stronger part knew he was tied by eternal, unbreakable bonds to the figure standing over his grave.

Trembling and not quite gasping, for his heart and lungs were silent, Anton dropped to his knees in front of Russell Edgington. He uttered the word he had walked through blood and flame to never say again. "Master," he sighed, as the last human breath left his body.

Edgington laid his hand on Anton's bowed head. "Come, you need not fear. You have been reborn as a superior being. You are now vampire." Anton's soul quailed at the name. He was a blood drinker? He sent agonized pleas to the _Loa_, begging for help to end this torment, one way or another. But his powers had deserted him.

His master gestured to something wrapped in a blanket lying on the ground. "Now, you must feed. I will teach you everything you need to know. You belong to me, but in time you will possess power and freedom beyond your wildest dreams." Russell kicked the blanket-covered form, and it rolled over, revealing the body of a young black woman. Her eyes were wide, beyond terror; paralyzed by fear but horribly aware. Anton recognized her as the girl who looked after the slave children while their mothers were in the field.

Russell knelt beside his new progeny, detailing in seductive whispers what obscenities Anton must now commit against the girl who lay in front of him. There was nothing Anton could do to resist his master's orders, and worse, he didn't want to. He craved her liquid warmth with a hunger Anton didn't think could ever be satisfied. Her fear lay on his tongue in bitter sweetness, like burnt sugar. Under Russell's compulsion, Anton kept his gaze fixed on the eyes of the girl as he sank his fangs into her jugular vein, never wavering until the blindness of death claimed her. Anton would always remember that, long after she was dead, he suckled at her neck like a demon child, drawing every last drop of blood from her body.


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Hello everybody! Thanks for the comments as always. You all keep me going! Here is a short installment with a much longer one on the way._

_Haven't said in this while but I own none these characters. Except for those I do. Just livin' la vida loca, baby._

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The sound of a passing truck drew Anton back to the present. He set his laptop on the passenger seat beside him and returned to keeping watch on the back alley entrance to Fangtasia. It was time to claim the next installment of Eric Northman's debt to Russell Edgington.

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Eric woke a few minutes before sunset. The memory of Sookie's death the night before crashed in, threatening to drown him in despair. But he brutally pushed against the tide, using his rage as leverage. The dream, or vision; whatever he'd experienced as he slept managed to trickle back regardless. He shook his head as if to dislodge the horror and dread that trailed after the images like vapor.

What the hell had it meant, if not just his mind trying to process his endless grief? Why had both Russell and Godric referred to Sookie as dead, then also talked about her as if she were alive but in terrible danger? Who was the mysterious figure with Godric?

Without warning, Sookie's screams of pain from the dream burst upon him. The horrible sensation of his body being torn apart returned with shattering immediacy.

Eric tore out of his burrow, dirt filling his mouth and ears. Terror of being buried alive flared in his gut, something he'd not felt since the first night he woke as a new vampire. But then he'd had Godric by his side to soothe his fears and guide him into his new life. Now both Godric and Sookie were gone. He was alone.

Eric found he was gasping for air. He knew it wasn't possible but he couldn't stop.

_Eric. _

He huddled on the ground, shaking limbs curled around his body; bloody tears streaking his face. His pale skin glistened with sweat. He knew he reeked of fear.

_Eric._

Eric's head went up like a beast catching a scent. _Sookie. _

He remembered. She had called out to him last night. He instantly strained all his senses now to see if the sound would be repeated. Nothing.

The bond hung in useless tatters; it didn't produce Sookie's voice. Had he imagined it?

No, he knew the sound of her voice. It had been real.

Eric drew in deep slow breaths he knew he didn't need. He brushed the dirt off his nude body and dressed, struggling to discipline his disordered mind. He launched himself into the night sky.

_What if, beyond all evidence and reason, Sookie was still alive? _

His jaw clenched. He'd seen her brutally beaten and murdered in front of him; suffered every moment of her pain and fear. He'd felt the blood bond violently torn asunder. How could he, for one rational moment think she had survived?

That she might be alive and alone in Russell's hands darkened his vision for a moment. The things Edgington would do to Sookie in revenge made Eric sick with fear. All her suffering was his fault.

He made a determined effort to pull his thoughts together. Whatever Sookie's call to him meant, he could serve her best by finding Russell as soon as possible and killing the mad fucker. He had to stay focused.

Eric spied his destination. As he descended on his target, the tiny seed of hope planted in his soul refused to yield to cold rationality. Needing only faith to bring it to flower, Eric couldn't help his last thought.

_Live, Sookie. Be my miracle and I swear I will be yours._


	28. Chapter 28

_A/N: Here's a new chapter. Sookie is back. I hope you enjoy it. _

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The shrill fire alarm had been blaring for over twenty minutes now. Sookie had screamed herself hoarse, but no firefighters, no security guards had come to her rescue. She unplugged the toaster once the sprinkler had gone off. The smoke was almost entirely gone now.

She had to face it. Nobody was coming. Her plan had failed.

Even knowing it was probably useless, she dragged the massive table over in front of the door to the connecting suite and piled the heavy chairs on top of it. She added the small couch to the barrier. Since the bed was on rollers she pulled that over, too.

After making sure she was as prepared as possible, she stood with her back against the far wall, where the hospital bed had once stood. She tried to slow her racing heart. She felt as if she were a mouse who had shut herself in the trap, waiting for the cat to arrive for dinner.

She glanced tensely at the clock. The sun would soon set in the outside world. She imagined the orange, red and purple streaks of a sunset over the deep woods behind her house. Would she ever see another?

Minutes ticked by. Sookie could keep herself poised on the razor's edge of fight or flight for only so long. Her hyper-alertness began to fade, leaving her dangerously close to exhaustion.

Damn, couldn't they just come and try to kill her already?

She realized she badly needed to pee. She sighed. This never happened on _CSI_. She shifted uncomfortably and eyed the distance to the bathroom. Did she dare?

Before she could blink, the furniture piled against the door burst outward like a tornado raged on the other side. But the look on Russell Edgington's face as he stepped over the debris was one of amused contempt.

"Why, Miss Stackhouse I do apologize. It appears housekeeping has failed to maintain the standards I expect in one of my establishments. They will feel my displeasure, I assure you." Russell walked slowly toward her, moving with a light grace that reminded her of a big cat stalking its prey across the savannah.

Sookie stayed frozen where she was, momentarily hypnotized by Russell's sudden appearance. She tried to order her body into action.

He smiled indulgently. "So you tried to start a fire. Surely you didn't think we were careless enough to leave the alarm connected to the emergency responders, any more than we would allow you access to a working gas fireplace."

"As you might imagine, I have a pronounced aversion to fire these days." Russell frowned. "That noise is quite annoying." He casually leapt up and smashed the alarm on the wall. Silence echoed through the room. "That's better."

"Now we should resume our conversation from last evening. I'm sure you have many questions." Russell quickly retrieved two chairs from the pile and placed them in the center of the room. "Come, sit here. You will be more comfortable."

Sookie finally found her voice. "I'll stay here, thanks. Where's the other one?"

"My boy, Anton?" Russell laughed. "He is taking care of some business for me. He'll be back later tonight to continue our experiments with your delightful blood." As he talked he had been coming closer to the trembling blond. "There is no need for these dramatics. You cannot escape and lucky for you, I don't wish you hurt."

Sookie suddenly bolted past the vampire and took shelter behind the chairs. "I'd rather die than have you keep me for years like a fucking milk cow!"

Russell's lips tightened and he shook his head irritably. "Why do humans never appreciate how reasonable I am? I don't enjoy strong arm tactics. They are so inefficient." Sookie expected him to grab for her but he wandered over to the counter where she had tossed the useless toaster. He sniffed delicately and picked it up. "You used this appliance to trigger the smoke alarm? You're resourceful, I'll give you that."

His back was to her, as if he so discounted her as a threat he didn't need to watch her at all. She felt as if she stepped outside herself. She would never be his private soda fountain. She wouldn't just lie down and let herself be fang-raped over and over again. Pulling out the stake she had whittled out of one the wooden hangers, she rushed at the target presented.

Russell spun at the last minute, as if he could have done it sooner but preferred to let her hope until he smashed the hope beyond repair. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she screamed with pain and dropped the stake. With stunning force he smashed her against the wall where the hospital bed had stood. All breath left her body and dark spots appeared in front of her eyes. He pressed her against the wall, both hands manacled in one of his; fangs extended.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something so incongruous she almost laughed hysterically. Russell had the toaster in his free hand. His hot breath smelled of cloves. She would never drink spice tea again.

"You need a lesson, Miss Stackhouse. I may desire your blood, and that protects you; but only to a point." He licked the side of her mouth where she'd bitten her lip during the altercation. He slowly sucked on her lip to draw out the blood. Sookie thought she might puke all over him. "You are a pretty thing, I suppose. I can see why your suitors were attracted, even before tasting you."

"Fortunately, I am not so enamored of the female form." Russell lifted the toaster thoughtfully. "I don't need a pretty face in order to enjoy your fairy blood and all its benefits. A blunt object is not the most precise of tools, but I'm anxious to see what results we can achieve. Aren't you?"

Just as he brought the toaster down on her face, Sookie twisted her head to one side as far as possible. With sickening force the toaster slammed against a row of nozzles and tubes installed in the wall. Sookie heard a soft hiss of air and then felt an intense heat as flames flared out beside her. The grip on her wrists loosened and a horrible groan echoed through the room.

Sookie ducked away as fast as she could. Once she reached the far side of the room she turned around. Russell's entire left arm and shoulder were on fire. In a blur, he rushed into the bathroom and then was out again using towels to snuff out the flames. The damage to his skin was extensive and even his face was slightly singed. The smell of burned flesh made Sookie ill.

She was afraid to move and draw the vampire's attention to her. Distantly she thought the toaster must have broken off the oxygen nozzle in the wall and the collision must have supplied the spark to start a fire.

Suddenly, Russell's gaze fastened on her with a physical force. Sookie saw her end in his eyes. The futility of running was so obvious she didn't even back up when he moved toward her. She stood still as his hand closed around her throat. He stank of death. He caressed her face with a charred finger, streaking her cheek with black.

"Even your blood is not worth this, Miss Stackhouse," the vampire growled. "I will have one last glorious, indulgent bout and then you will be dead. No more troublesome Sookie Stackhouse. It will be a relief." Russell dipped his fangs to her throat. "For both of us, I think."

In that moment, Sookie thought she had made her peace with dying. She had tried her best, but now it was over. At least this way it would be quick. But when she felt Russell pierce her skin, something clicked inside her. She pushed at the vampire with all her strength. "Wait!"

He didn't move but lifted his head. "Can't you even die without talking?" Russell complained. "Ripping out your tongue is definitely next."

"Wait!" Sookie repeated desperately. "I know how you can get more fairy blood. Pure fairies, not just fairy hybrids."

"Come now, Miss Stackhouse," Russell said impatiently. "These lies do not become you. Die with a little dignity if you please." He bent to her again. "Besides, if there were other fairies I would know about it."

"No. No!" She pounded on his chest. "Listen to me. I went there. To the place where the fairies live. Pure blooded ones have been collecting the hybrids to keep vampires from finding them. But Bill has been to this place. And Eric met one of the fairies, too and he drained her dead. He was out in the sun for the whole day!" She knew she was babbling but her life depended on it.

"And where is this fairy realm?" Russell asked with a sigh, although his hand tightened painfully on her throat. "How do we get there, tap our heels three times?"

"We go to Bon Temps," Sookie choked out. "To the cemetery by my house."

The vampire squeezed even harder, while gazing thoughtfully over Sookie's head. As darkness rose up to claim her, she heard his voice.

"Onward to Bon Temps!"

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Eric scouted the third story windows of the Mississippi Palace until he found one that opened onto what was clearly an attic storage room. It was mostly empty and showed signs of recent cleaning. Eric broke one pane of the large oriole window, unlocked it and slipped inside.

Remembering his last visit he found the narrow stairs the led down to the second floor bedrooms. Eric was about to round one of the many corners characteristic of the house's octagonal design when he heard footsteps approaching. He stepped back in time to dodge a patrolling guard.

After the sentry passed by, Eric padded quietly down the hallway to what he knew were the Master Apartments. He had a brief flash of meeting Talbot here and what had followed. He ruthlessly shoved the memory aside. It was over and he wouldn't have done anything differently. Eric silently turned the ornate carved door handle and stepped inside.

As he'd hoped, the room was occupied by a burly chestnut-haired vampire sitting in a large wing backed chair before a roaring fire. The vampire looked up from the E-reader he was holding. An expression of anger at being interrupted, then pleasure and speculation flashed in quick succession over the broad ruddy face.

"Well, if isn't Eric Northman, terror of all Louisiana's wrongdoers! It's been decades, man." Bancroft Drummond, new King of Mississippi sprang to his feet, unfolding a figure nearly as tall as the Viking and twice as broad. He set down his tablet and strode toward his visitor.

"Your Majesty," Eric gave a slightly ironic bow, mostly to forestall the bear hug that was Bancroft's signature greeting. "Congratulations on your ascension."

"Aye, well," Bancroft's native Scots accent had never really faded. "As with much in life or death, it's a matter of being in the right place at the right time; _carpe diem _and all that." The other vampire gestured to a twin of the large chair he'd just vacated. "Now what brings the Sheriff of Louisiana's Area 5 to see me, unannounced and without even the courtesy to come in through the front door? I hope none of my people paid the price for your impulsiveness."

Eric rightly took the offer of a seat to mean Bancroft wasn't going to immediately clap him in silver, despite his words. "All your subjects remain in good health." Eric remained standing until the King sat down again. "Forgive the intrusion into your home, Your Majesty, but my business is...private." With that, Eric conveyed that his visit was not sanctioned by or even with the knowledge of his own King.

"Call me Banc, as you used to, when we fought side by side," the King of Mississippi turned brightly curious hazel eyes toward his guest. "You're certain you bring me no message from your King Bill? Sending you as an emissary would be smarter than all the legal threats and posturing he's tried over the last year."

Eric was well aware of the suits and counter-suits the two monarchs had filed with the Authority against each other due to the aborted marriage between Sophie Anne and Russell. Bancroft's position was that the marriage wasn't sanctioned by the Authority so it should be voided _ab initio_; as if it had never been. He argued the assets of both parties would thus return to their pre-marital state.

Bill claimed that Sophie Anne was the injured party due to Russell's coercion, his subsequent treason in the murder of the Magister and the televised attack on the human. As the surviving spouse (at least for awhile) the Queen thus inherited all of Russell's assets and the crown of Mississippi. Bill asserted these comprised the contents of the Queen's estate when he succeeded her as King.

Eric knew Bill had zero interest in governing two states, much less going to war over the issue. It was simply a bargaining chip to make sure he got enough money to cover Sophie Anne's tax debts and continue rebuilding the state after Katrina. The Viking didn't share his thoughts. Banc was quite capable of fighting his own battles.

"No, Compton knows nothing of my visit. I am no longer in the service of Louisiana," Eric admitted coolly.

"So you've seen the light and wish to join me in Mississippi!" Bancroft exclaimed with delight. "Whatever position you like, Eric! As long it's not mine," he gave a great booming laugh.

"It would help if you didn't interject so many comments, Banc." Eric said gently. The Scot's enthusiasm and tendency to rush to conclusions was legendary.

The King looked abashed. "Aye. On with the tale at your own speed then, man."

"Did you really believe the story that Russell committed suicide?" Eric asked instead.

"Not at all," Bancroft said promptly. "But he was clearly gone from the scene and the Authority would never let him keep the crown after what he did. The AVL was wholly occupied with damage control." He looked at his visitor thoughtfully. "I heard you were the one who showed Talbot the true death. A sure way to focus Russell's unwavering attention on yourself."

"I had my reasons." Eric didn't want to share the tragic story of his human family with anyone.

"And yet here you sit; a third Russell's age and strength. How did you do it?" Bancroft asked bluntly.

Eric paused a long moment, staring into the fire. "It seems I wasn't quite thorough enough, Banc. Russell is back."

The King stared at his guest. "Well, that's unfortunate."


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: _Hello, there is no graceful way to say that I lost my way and temporarily abandoned this story. So I will just apologize and say I am back and will try to bring the saga to a satisfactory and quick resolution. But as a tribute to the return of our favorite obsession, True Blood, tonight, please accept my humble contribution. _

Pam sat on the couch in Eric's office, going through files on Eric's laptop. She'd already sent off a series of reports to Bill, detailing the holdings. Bill had allowed her access to funds needed to run Area 5, but any expenditure over a certain amount would have to be cleared through him personally "for now". Pompous ass.

Still, this didn't rankle as much as it might have otherwise. She was determined to the best steward possible over Eric's fortune.

Pam had never previously hesitated to use Eric's office for her activities (varied as they were). But now that her maker was gone, she couldn't bear to sit behind his desk. The couch and a laptop would do for now.

After the King had left the night before, Pam called Chow and a few other of Eric's most trusted underlings to meet her at the club. Without revealing all the details, she dispatched them with a mission. They were to intercept some of the regular club patrons who had witnessed Eric's meltdown and implant a particular memory of the night's events. The story was that Eric had to aggressively intervene in a bar fight that got out of hand, in order to protect the human customers.

Pam hoped this version, though imperfect, would pose a plausible scenario when compared to what other patrons might report to the police.

Those efforts had taken until nearly dawn. Exhausted and filled with unwelcome self-doubt, Pam had fallen heavily into her daytime sleep.

She stared blankly at the computer screen now, thinking about the night to come. Bill had called a meeting of all the sheriffs to discuss Russell's return. Pam would leave for Bon Temps shortly. There she would be introduced as the new Sheriff of Area 5. Though she'd assumed the position to protect Eric's interests, Pam still felt guilty. But she would do the best job possible. Eric would expect nothing less of her.

Fangtasia remained closed for the night, ostensibly to repair damage from the bar fight. Pam had banned everyone from the club, including Ginger. She needed one more night alone. Even the thought of sinking her fangs into warm pulsing flesh didn't excite her at the moment.

What she wanted was to find Russell Edgington and tear him limb from limb. She would even settle for his lame-ass minion Sejour.

Yes. What she needed now was a good fight.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N:_ Enjoy._

"I need to know who could help Russell escape and where he might be now," Eric stated.

"How do you know he's back? I've never known you to leave a job half done, Eric." Bancroft rose, picked up a large bottle of blood and two snifter glasses from a sideboard and brought them back to sit on a low table between the two vampires. "Why didn't you show him the true death?"

Eric glowered at his old friend, who gazed back frankly until the Viking dropped his eyes and performed the honors, filling both glasses with blood. The King gave a half laugh at Eric's silence. "You have your reasons for that, too. Aye?"

"Just answer my questions, Banc. As you can imagine time is of the essence," Eric said finally. He burned to take his vengeance now. Every moment that Russell still walked the earth was one too many.

And if Sookie still lived...Eric closed his eyes, struggling to control his rage and the fragile hope that warred with his despair. He needed to keep his mind clear if he was to defeat Russell Edgington.

"Ah...," Bancroft sipped his blood and eyed the tensely coiled vampire before him. "Except for Talbot, Russell was pretty much a one-man show. He micro-managed the sheriffs and none of us knew much about his overall plans. He liked to pit us against each other, mostly to keep the underlings from uniting against him."

"His fondness for wolves was an open secret with the sheriffs but only two of us knew he was giving them the Blood. I had the nerve to express my distaste, which didn't go over well." Bancroft glanced sharply at Eric. "I was the one Russell was going to replace with Bill Compton as Sheriff of Area 2. Did you know that?"

Eric shook his head. Bancroft certainly had no reason to like Bill. Instead he asked, "When did you first meet Russell? Who was around him back then?"

"I immigrated to the New World after Culloden. I knew then the Stuart cause was done." Bancroft had been made vampire in the time of Mary, Queen of Scots. For centuries he fought passionately for the Catholic Stuarts and their belief in the "Divine Right of Kings." But the brutal defeat of Bonnie Prince Charlie and his starving Highlanders by the English at Culloden in 1745 had ended their vision of returning Britain to the Pope's flock once and for all.

A few vampires remained tied to the time and place of their making, supporting crusades, religions and politics long after history passed them by. Bancroft had been one of them, although unlike some he'd eventually made a break with the past.

The King explained he'd established himself in Charleston, back when South Carolina was still a British Colony. He traveled regularly to Savannah and New Orleans as his trading ventures required. "I met Russell in New Orleans sometime in the early 1790s. There was a slave uprising in Saint Domingue and all the rich whites that could escape the island were pouring into the port there."

"I was on the docks to check on one of my ships. Piracy was rampant then along the coast. Russell came ashore and of course, we recognized each other for what we are. There were few enough of us in the Americas at the time. No matter what feuds or battles lay between us in the Old World, they were forgotten in the relief at being together with others of our kind. You remember?"

Eric nodded. Bancroft was a born storyteller but Eric wished he'd get to the point.

"I hadn't met Russell before but, of course, I'd heard of him. One so old! It was amazing that he still wanted to explore new lands. Many of the ancient ones never traveled to the New World and still haven't. We found a tavern, took some refreshment," Bancroft looked meaningfully at Eric, who made a "continue" gesture with his hand. The wharves in those days had been excellent feeding grounds. Notoriously violent and full of transient sailors, merchants and whores who wouldn't be missed, vampires flocked to the ports in any city.

"We spent the evening talking. Russell had grandiose visions, even then. He said the Old World was polluted and vile, poisoned by eons of human habitation. He wanted to start anew in America, which was free and unspoiled." Bancroft's glass was empty and Eric filled it again. "Russell was fascinated by the few Native American vampires and planned to make a study of them. Particularly their relationship to, and use of, animal spirits. His interest probably stemmed from his use of wolves, although I didn't know it at the time. You realize he had a pack serving him for centuries?"

"Yes, I know," Eric said bitterly. When he didn't elaborate, Bancroft continued.

"We went our separate ways after that. I didn't see him again until 1820 or so. I needed to move on from Charleston. Russell was setting up his Mississippi kingdom. He'd brought Talbot over from Europe by this time. He offered me a place which I accepted. Eventually, I became a Sheriff. That's it," Bancroft concluded.

Colorful as it was, this history wasn't helping Eric any. "Did Russell make any progeny besides Talbot? And have you ever heard the name Anton Sejour?"

"Talbot was Russell's one and only. I never heard of any others while I worked for him," the King said apologetically.

Damn, Eric thought. Sejour was like a phantom. Where had he come from and where was he now? He must be found. Eric's hands clenched as if he could feel Russell's throat between them.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: _And one more._

Pam heard a sound in the bar, like a chair scraping across the floor. Dammit, she was supposed to be alone. But something told her this wasn't Ginger or an overly-determined patron.

Silently, she left Eric's office and crept down the hallway. She opened the door to the bar. The neon signs that advertised True Blood and varieties of human alcohol that usually illuminated the club all night long were unlit.

With no windows, the room was plunged into Stygian darkness. Even Pam's vampire vision had trouble picking out shapes in the room.

"We're closed tonight," she said in a calm voice, her hand reaching unerringly for the baseball bat kept under the bar. "You'll have to come back another time."

As she spoke, she threw the object in her other hand, a bottle of beer. As it crashed against a wall, she listened intently in the shattered silence. She sensed only a small movement, instantly stilled, several feet to her left near the dancer pole. Her respect for her opponent went up but she had great confidence in her own battle skills.

"I thought a vampire as old and strong as the great Eric Northman would better guard his property. Your security, as they say, sucks." Pam heard a slightly accented voice pierce the darkness.

Pam kept herself loose and relaxed, despite the insult to her maker, as she moved silently as possible toward her enemy. She knew now she faced a vampire; but how old and how strong, she didn't know yet. "Eric Northman is his own security. Besides, he has me."

Pam wished devoutly the old baseball bat was a sharpened stake. Each time her opponent spoke, she came closer to locating his position in the blackness. Of course, the opposite was also true.

"You?" the tone of her adversary's voice was drily amused. "You are merely the next installment in the payment of your maker's great debt to Russell Edgington."

Pam knew now who she faced. Anton Sejour. Perfect, just who she'd wanted to meet. She prepared to attack the other vampire but couldn't resist adding, "And you're nothing but Russell's second best butt-boy!"

Pam launched herself upward but seemed to hit a brick wall. Anton easily plucked her out of the air with his hand tightly around her throat. His other hand tore the bat from her grip. He slammed her against the floor and Pam felt several ribs shatter. Anton pinned her in place with a boot grinding against her neck. She struggled but could not escape him. He was clearly older and faster than she.

Her captor sighed as he flashed a penlight in her snarling face. "Somehow I expected better from Eric Northman's progeny. But no matter, you will meet the true death." Anton's fangs glinted in the slight illumination. "Tonight."


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